'Ah! well, these dark waters have closed over many an unhappy head, even since my entry into this hell of crime.'
'The Lifter told me of the minister's fate.'
'I am thinking now of a young girl who was once like myself. She was the daughter of a wealthy farmer, beautiful and gifted. The horrible chief saw her one day riding past the swamp, and the sight of her filled him with a hideous desire. When next she rode that way he sprang out of the bush and seized her; and then dragged her almost lifeless to his lair. Ah, my God, how my heart went out in pity for the sweet young creature; but what could I do. The villain had his way; and all night long his victim wailed in a way to melt a heart of stone. They became alarmed at her constant crying; and one dreary night the old woman and Silent Poll dragged her to the edge of the pond. Tying a stone to her neck they threw her in. She lies there,' pointing to a spot about twenty yards distant, near a steep part of the bank; 'and the water is three fathoms deep.
'But she is not the only victim. At a class-leader's house Jud Sykes made the acquaintance of a beautiful girl of eighteen. On a certain Saturday afternoon Marguerite, for that was the girl's name, set out, on foot; from her own house, to pass the Sunday with her aunt. The Rev. Mr. Jonas, who had spent the preceding night at her father's house, was aware of the visit; and he was posted in the bush close to the road-side as the girl came along.
'"Good afternoon, Miss Marguerite," he exclaimed; "I was gathering these beautiful wild flowers, and heard a step. Guess my surprise, my pleasant surprise, at seeing you, my dear. How bountiful God is to give us all those beautiful wild sprays of beauty. Do you know, my dear, that I think I get half my inspiration from the flowers; not so much from those which we pamper in our gardens, as from those which grow in wild, sweet places with only His hand to tend them."
'"How very beautiful your ideas always are," the poor girl said, as she looked admiringly at her gifted and pious friend.
'"Ah, my child, I am but a very unworthy instrument in God's hand. But come with me into this sombre wood—you have a full hour to spare—and we shall find a bouquet for your good aunt. Give her my blessing when you see her. This way, my dear Marguerite; this way. If we could reach a beautiful lake, which lies about a mile distant through this wood, I think that I could find you some lilies there—some sisters for you. When first I saw you, my dear Marguerite, you reminded me of a lily."
'The poor girl blushed deeply at these compliments; and she thought that it was so good of this gifted man to bestow them upon a poor, simple girl like herself.
'"But this is the horrid swamp, Mr. Jonas, where they say the robbers live. Lots of men have come in here, and never came out again. Do you not feel afraid?"
'"I feel no alarm, my timid child. I have wandered many a day through the aisles of this sombre wood. The boughs grow so heavy and the trees so close as you advance, that you will find that 'dim religious light' whereof the gifted poet writes."