"Do not agitate yourself," I whispered; "in a few days you will be strong enough to talk, and then all matters will be set right."
"I have no desire to proceed against my nephew," Mr. Critchet began, "for the part he has taken in this matter. He is a bad youth, and will some day be punished for his crime. I have attempted to make an honest man of him, and have signally failed. I expected as much, yet I am glad that his hand was raised against me, instead of one less capable of forgiving. He is my sister's child, and I promised to act a father's part towards him. I shall do so, by attempting to procure his discharge, and supplying him with money sufficient to reach some other portion of the country, where his crimes and character are unknown. Peace go with him—I have no desire to see him more."
"Those are the sentiments of a Christian," I remarked.
"They are the feelings of a man and a relative," he exclaimed, hastily.
We made no reply, and he continued,—
"I had often remonstrated with my nephew against keeping late hours, and in relation to the company that he was in the habit of associating with, but my remarks were unheeded; and then I bethought me that I had a large amount of gold which should be consigned to a more secure place than my tent; and it was but a few days after I deposited it at the government office, that I was awakened by hearing whispering in my tent. I sprang from my bed, and as I did so, I heard Follet say, 'Kill him.' I was instantly struck with a sharp-pointed knife, and as I grappled with my enemies, I called upon my nephew to spare me.
"Half a dozen blows were showered upon me in answer, and then I fell, fainting, and revived just sufficiently to crawl to your store, and by that means, I have no doubt, my life was saved; although, if I had supposed that you were to be involved, I think that I should have remained in my tent, and expired without making known my condition. I am grateful for your kindness to me, and will some day show you how highly I appreciate it."
We would not allow him to talk more, and even if he had been so disposed we could not have stopped to listen, for a whip was cracked in front of the store like the report of a pistol, and then we heard Smith's voice, shouting, in no gentle terms, to his oxen.