“When she either stooped too near the flood, or a larger wave had caught her where she sat, and at the sound of a scream her mother looked round, and saw the wee lassie disappear in the black cauldron which whirled round and round within the rocks.”
“Ah!” groaned Elijah, visibly moved, who had spoken calmly of the everlasting damnation of the greater portion of the human race times without number.
“Her mother, in her agony, cried to God to save Elsie.”
“She could not have done better,” cried Elijah; “and He answered her prayer.”
“While she prayed, Posty was coming down the footpath behind, and he heard her cry.”
“Posty was the instrument,” and Elijah rapped the floor with his stick. “He obeyed the Divine command within, and he cannot go without some reward.”
“He tore off his coat in an instant, and then—I suppose if you had been there you would have besought him to bethink himself: and to remember that he was a man unfit to die! Is not that so?”
“Sir,” said Elijah, “you do me less than justice, and... insult me. What right have you to ask me such a question? I have preached, and I will preach again; but there's a time for preaching, and a time to refrain from preaching. I can swim, and I have saved two lives in my time. I am a fool for boasting, but I would...”
“I believe you would, Mr. Higginbotham”—I saw an able-bodied man without fear—“and I beg your pardon...”
Elijah waved his hand. I was to go on to the end without delay.