ould have been
the last moment in the life of the Quaker had not his right hand,
convulsively clawing the road, touched a piece of broken rock. It was as
if a life-line had swung up against the hand of a drowning man.

Through the body which had seemed to be emptied of all its resources, a
tide of reserve energy swelled, under the impulse of which the exhausted
youth untwisted the grip of the iron hand, flung off the heavy body,
mounted upon it, crowded the great head with its matted hair and staring
eyes down into the dust, seized the stone with his right hand, raised
it, and struck.

The effect of the blow was twofold--paralyzing the brain of the smitten
and the arm of the smiter. Across the low forehead of the quack it left
a great gaping wound like a bloody mouth. A death-like pallor spread
itself over his countenance, the lids dropped back and left the eyes
staring hideously up into the face above them.

David's arm, spasmodically uplifted for a second blow, was suspended in
air. He did not move for a long time; and when at length his scattered
senses began to return he threw down the stone, rose to his feet and
exclaimed in accents of terror, "My God! I have killed him."

He could not overcome the fascination of the lifeless face and
wide-staring eyes. They drew him towards them; he stooped down and felt
for the pulse, which was imperceptible; laid his hand upon the heart,
but could not feel it beat; he raised an arm, and it fell back limp and
lifeless.

Suddenly one elemental passion gave place to another. Horror had
displaced anger, and now in its turn gave way to the instinct of
self-preservation. He looked toward the carriage and saw that Pepeeta
had fallen into a swoon. "Perhaps she has not seen what has happened,"
he said to himself, and a cunning smile lit up his pale face.

Stooping down, he seized the loathsome object lying there in the dust of
the road and dragged it off into the thick shrubbery. Stumbling along,
he came to a hollow made by the roots of an upturned tree. Into this he
flung the thing, hastily; covered it with moss and leaves, and stood
staring stupidly at the rude sepulchre. He experienced a momentary
feeling of relief that the hideous object was out of sight; but the
consciousness of his guilt and his danger soon surged back upon him like
a flood. In such moments the mind works wildly, like a clock with a
broken spring, but sometimes with an astonishing accuracy and wisdom.

It o