ook his danger in the face, and with the
deceitful consolation, with which timid tempers are apt to conceal their
desperate condition from themselves, he had rather courted a treacherous
relief in his cunning, than prepared himself for the worst.

"Die!" he repeated, in a voice that scarcely issued from his chest; "a
man is surely safe among his kinsmen!"

"So thought my boy," returned the squatter, motioning for the team, that
contained his wife and the girls, to proceed, as he very coolly examined
the priming of his piece. "By the rifle did you destroy my son; it is
fit and just that you meet your end by the same weapon."

Abiram stared about him with a gaze that bespoke an unsettled reason. He
even laughed, as if he would not only persuade himself but others that
what he heard was some pleasantry, intended to try his nerves. But
nowhere did his frightful merriment meet with an answering echo. All
around was solemn and still. The visages of his nephews were excited,
but cold towards him, and that of his former confederate frightfully
determined. This very steadiness of mien was a thousand times more
alarming and hopeless than any violence could have proved. The latter
might possibly have touched his spirit and awakened resistance, but the
former threw him entirely on the feeble resources of himself.

"Brother," he said, in a hurried, unnatural whisper, "did I hear you?"

"My words are plain, Abiram White: thou hast done murder, and for the
same must thou die!"

"Esther! sister, sister, will you leave me! Oh sister! do you hear my
call?"

"I hear one speak from the grave!" returned the husky tones of Esther,
as the wagon passed the spot where the criminal stood. "It is the voice
of my firstborn, calling aloud for justice! God have mercy, God have
mercy, on your soul!"

The team slowly pursued its route, and the deserted Abiram now found
himself deprived of the smallest vestige of hope. Still he could not
summon fortitude to meet his death, and had not his limbs refused to aid
him, he would yet have attempted to fly. Then, by a sudden revolution
from hope to utter despair, he fell upon his knees, and commenced a
prayer, in which cries for mercy to God and to his kinsman were wildly
and blasphemously mingled. The sons of Ishmael turned away in horror
at the disgusting spectacle, and even the stern nature of the squatter
began to bend before so abject misery.

"May that, which you ask of Him, be granted," he sai