So soon—so very soon! Say to her, I beseech you—say to her as you have said to me, that she may confess if she will; that we have been together, and that we have both agreed in the opinion that she had better confess and throw herself on the mercy of her judges, till the fury of the storm hath passed over.—It will soon have passed over, I am sure now—
No George, no; but I will say this. I will say to her—
Go on—go on, I beseech you—
—I will say to her—Elizabeth, my dear Sister; go down upon thy knees and pray to the Lord to be nigh to thee, and give thee strength, and to lead thee in the path which is best for his glory; and after that, if thee should feel free to preserve thy life by such means—being on the guard against the love of life, and the fear of death—the Tempter of souls, and the weapons of the flesh—it will be thy duty so to preserve it.
Burroughs groaned aloud—but he could prevail no further. Enough, said he, at last: write as much on this paper, and let me carry it with me.
Carry it with thee—what do thee mean?
I hardly know what I mean; I would see her and urge her to live, but when I consider what must follow, though I have permission to see her, my heart fails me.
Thee is to meet her with me, I suppose?
No, I believe not—
How—alone?—