d so clear that she stole the
paper. I knew Mr. Hargrove gave her a copy of it, and I only wanted
to sell the paper itself to the old General in Europe because I was
poor, and had not money enough to stop work. I have not had a happy
day since; my conscience has tormented me. I have carried a mountain
of lead upon my soul, day and night, and at last when Peleg came, and
I was about to get my gold, the Lord interfered and took it out of my
hands. Oh! it is an awful thing to shut your eyes and stop your ears,
and run down a steep place to meet the devil who is waiting at the
bottom for you, and to feel yourself suddenly jerked back by
something which you know Almighty God has sent to stop you! He sent
that lightning to burn up the paper, and I feel that His curse will
follow me to my grave."
"Not if you earnestly repent, and pray for His forgiveness." Hannah
raised her grey head, and gazed incredulously at the pale delicate
face, into the violet eyes that watched her with almost tender
compassion.
"Oh, child! when our hands are tied, and we are so helpless we can't
do any more mischief, who believes in our repentance?"
"I do, Hannah; and how much more merciful is God?"
"You don't mean that you would ever trust me, ever believe in me
again?"
Her hand caught the white muslin dress, and her haggard wrinkled face
was full of eager, breathless supplication.
"Yes, Hannah, I would. I do not believe you will ever steal again.
Suppose the lightning had struck you as well as the tree where you
hid the stolen paper, what do you think would have become of your
poor wicked soul? You intended to sell that paper to a person who
hates my mother, and who would have used it to injure her; but she is
in God's hands, and you ought to be glad that this sin at least was
prevented. In a few days you are going away, far out to the west, you
say, where we shall probably never see or hear from you again, unless
you choose to write us. Until you are gone, I shall keep all this
secret. Mrs. Lindsay never shall know anything about it; but if Mr.
Hargrove believes my mother took that paper, it is my duty to her to
tell him the truth; and this I must do after you leave us. I promise
he shall suspect nothing while you remain here. Can you ask me to do
more than this for you?"
Hannah was crying passionately, and attempted no answer, save by
drawing the girl closer to her, as if she wanted to take the slender
figure in her brawny arms.
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