“Gabriel, pray yourself, and teach your children after you to pray, that your father may find forgiveness where he is now gone. I saw him as plainly as I now see you, kneeling with his knife in one hand over the sleeping man. He was taking the little book with the notes in it out of the stranger’s pocket. He got the book into his possession, and held it quite still in his hand for an instant, thinking. I believe--oh no! no! I’m sure--he was repenting; I’m sure he was going to put the book back; but just at that moment the stranger moved, and raised one of his arms, as if he was waking up. Then the temptation of the devil grew too strong for your father--I saw him lift the hand with the knife in it--but saw nothing more. I couldn’t look in at the window--I couldn’t move away--I couldn’t cry out; I stood with my back turned toward the house, shivering all over, though it was a warm summer-time, and hearing no cries, no noises at all, from the room behind me. I was too frightened to know how long it was before the opening of the cottage door made me turn round; but when I did, I saw your father standing before me in the yellow moonlight, carrying in his arms the bleeding body of the poor lad who had shared his food with us and slept on our hearth. Hush! hush! Don’t groan and sob in that way! Stifle it with the bedclothes. Hush! you’ll wake them in the next room!” “Gabriel--Gabriel!” exclaimed a voice from behind the partition. “What has happened? Gabriel! let me come out and be with you!”