The closed lids fluttered open, the dimmed eyes looked gratefully for
the last time into the face of the girl who had been kinder to him than
any other creature in this strange land where he had worked so
faithfully, where he had been so cruelly oppressed in life, and so
foully murdered; hope of Heaven being closed to him before his miserable
breath had been taken. The horror of his crime must have overcome the
ruffian for a moment, for he paused and silently watched the
death-agonies of his victim. To that moment’s feeling of horror or
remorse, what might not Millicent owe? For soon, to her it seemed an
eternity, the men, whose answering shouts she had not heard, appeared
close at hand. The murderer saw them none too quickly for his safety,
and springing upon his horse, which stood near by, clapped spurs to the
flank and rode off at a hand gallop in the opposite direction.
Galbraith rushed to Millicent’s side and lifted the dying creature from
her breast. They placed him gently upon the bank, and Hal put his flask
to his lips; but it was too late. With one last struggle Ah Lam yielded
up his miserable life; and Millicent’s cry of pity sounded his
death-knell. Then she lifted her hands to Heaven and prayed for the
soul of the poor creature who had so bravely defended her. An hour ago
she had smiled at Fra Antonio’s masses for the repose of the Smile of
the Morning. In moments like these the strong instincts of men and
women overcome the reasons and doctrines of education; Millicent prayed,
believing that she should be heard.
When it became evident to the little group which had silently assembled
about the spot, that poor Ah Lam was beyond human help, Maurice
Galbraith and Henry Deering lifted the lifeless body and laid it in the
great wagon. Millicent followed and drew over the dead face the white
cloak which she had worn all that day. Pedro, climbing to his seat,
touched the mules into motion; and the wagon, which had carried so merry
a freight to the gray bridge that morning, returned at sunset over the
same path with its ghastly burden,--a very funeral car.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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