The
fragment of the Bible was placed in his hands, and he was left to seek
his consolation as he might from its pages.
"And now, Abiram White," said the squatter, when his sons had
descended from completing this arrangement, "I give you a last and
solemn asking. Death is before you in two shapes. With this rifle can
your misery be cut short, or by that cord, sooner or later, must you
meet your end."
"Let me yet live! Oh, Ishmael, you know not how sweet life is, when
the last moment draws so nigh!"
"'Tis done," said the squatter, motioning for his assistants to follow
the herds and teams. "And now, miserable man, that it may prove a
consolation to your end, I forgive you my wrongs, and leave you to
your God."
Ishmael turned and pursued his way across the plain, at his ordinary
sluggish and ponderous gait. Though his head was bent a little towards
the earth, his inactive mind did not prompt him to cast a look behind.
Once, indeed, he thought he heard his name called, in tones that were
a little smothered, but they failed to make him pause.
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