at I had struck my victim suddenly and quickly,--she had
tortured hers for two whole years, until she sank broken-hearted into
her grave; and had not her sin been the parent of my own? Then I thought
of her husband's terrible curse, "May that child live to be your
punishment!" Was not the fearful prediction already fulfilled, although
she was ignorant of it? I cannot say that I felt glad that she was no
better than her son, but it seemed a palliation of my own guilt.

My mother was annoyed by my long silence. "What are you thinking about,
Noah?"

"The shocking story you have just told me. I did not think it possible,
Mother, that you could be so bad."

"What do you mean?" she cried out angrily.

"I mean what I say. If this story does not lower you in your own eyes,
it does in mine. Mother, I have always respected and venerated you till
this moment; I can do so no longer. For, mark me, Mother, as the tree
is, so is the fruit. How can you expect me, the offspring of such guilt,
ever to be a good man?"

"Noah, this is strange language from you! Thank God! you have done
nothing at present to cause me shame or reproach."

"You don't know what I have done--what this confession of yours may
tempt me to do. God knows, I would rather have been the son of the
despised and injured man whose name I bear, than the bastard of the
silken reprobate it was your shame to love."

"Oh, Noah! do not speak thus of your own father."

"Curse him! He has already met with his reward. And your sin, Mother,
will yet find you out."

I sprang from my chair to leave the room: my mother laid her hand upon
my arm: her eyes were brimful of tears.

"Noah, I have not deserved this treatment from you. Whatever my faults
may have been, I have been a kind mother to you."

She looked so piteous through her tears that, savage as I felt, my heart
reproached me for my harsh, cruel speech. I kissed her pale cheek and
sighed, "I forgive you, my poor mother. I would that God could as easily
pardon us both; but He is just as well as merciful, and we are great
sinners."

She looked enquiringly at me, as I lighted the candle, and strode up to
bed.

CHAPTER XXII.

EVIL THOUGHTS--THE PANGS OF REMORSE.

All day I toiled hard on my farm to drown evil thoughts. If I relaxed
the least from my labour, the tempter was ever at hand, urging me to
commit fresh crimes; and night brought with it horrors that I dared not
think of in the broad light of da