"Strangier, make yer peace with the Lord. Thar's even marcy fur such as you, perhaps. Hev ye the rope ready?"
At this moment a new comer appeared on the scene. It was the lank, thin, care-worn pastor of the little church; the shepherd of this thirsty flock. The noise had aroused him in his faded cottage, and in great perturbation and much trembling of his bony limbs, and rubbing of his withered hands he approached to see what it was all about.
"It's a hoss thief, an' in a minit we're going to hev one less in the kentry," explained the mob.
Instantly the thin, lank, trembling pastor was transformed into an iron-nerved, fearless warrior of the Master's army.
"Men," he cried, and his thin voice fairly reached a shriek with the unaccustomed energy; "men, you shall not kill the man! Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord! A murderer shall not enter the kingdom of heaven, and you are committing murder! In the name of Jesus I implore you to stop. Hold on. Let me alone. Release me. I will get to him. You are savages. How dare you, sir! Don't kill him. Stop, stop!" and hustled back by the crowd, this soul, worthier of a nobler tenement, went down on his knees and begged and prayed that they would hold their vengeful hands.
"He'll not preach here no more." "We've done with him." "Conference will hev to give us another preacher." "Make the durned old fool shet up," and similar hostile expressions were unheard or unheeded. He reproached, begged, threatened, implored. All was wasted upon the crowd. The tiger was loose. He had wetted his lips in imagination, was he to be cheated of his prey? The good man's protestations and supplications were alike disregarded.
"At least let me pray with him. Let me give him the consolation of our blessed Lord and Saviour in these, his last moments upon earth," he implored.
This request was at first refused, but ultimately reluctantly granted, with the observation that they could not see what the old idiot wanted to make so much fuss over a durned hoss thief for. The good man shook Horton by the hand, and spoke consolingly to him, giving him such sympathy as he could, and begging him to turn his thoughts on Him who died for all.
A great change had come over the Evangelist. He no longer supplicated for life, nor indeed did he pay much attention to those around him. Perhaps he saw how useless it was to search for their feelings. Perchance his thoughts were far away and death had lost its terrors. To a question of his only friend he replied:
"No, I have no relatives. There are none that I would care to acquaint with my fate. But I am an innocent man. Here, standing on the brink of Eternity, without a hope for this world, about to be ushered, all unheralded, all unsummoned, into the presence of Him who gave me life, I would not deceive you. I am innocent. And I solemnly adjure you at whose hands I perish that in the future, when you have found out the mistake of your crime, that it shall ever be a warning to you to hold more sacred that life which God has given, and which, though you may take, you cannot replace. And may He forgive you as I forgive you."