The weekly north Iowa times. [volume] (McGregor, Iowa) 1857-1867, 1861-05-08
WHOLE NO. 238.
Tho Restored.


all heartS. lie Is on the battlefield or In no
quiet home. Praise be to His holy name.
1t was in the wilds of Wssahickon, on
the day of battle, as the MONDAY sun came
through the thickly clustered leaves, that
two men met in deadly conflict, near the
reefs, which rose like the rocks of some pr-
mcval world, at least hundred feet above
the dark waters Of the Wissahckon.
The man with the dark, brown face, and
dark grey eye flushed with deadly light, and
muscular form, clad in the blue frock of the
Revolution--is Continental, named War
rem.
The other man, with long, black hair,
dropping along his cadaverous face, is clad
in the half military costume Of a Tory Re-
ugee. This is . murderer of Paoli named
Debaucy.
They met by accident and now they
fought, not with sword and rifle, but with
long and deadly hunting knifas they strug-
gled, twining and twisting on the green
sward.
At last the tory is downtown on the
turf, with the knee of the Continental upon
his breast-the upraised knife flashed death
in his facet
"Quarter! yield :" gasped the Tory,
as the knife was pressed upon his breast,
"spare mel yield
"My brother" said the patriot, in tone
Of deadly hate, my brother cried for quar-
ter on the night of Paol; and even as he
clung to your knees, you struck that knife
into his heart. o, will give you the quar-
ter Of Paoli!' And as his hand raised for
the blow, and his teeth were clenched with
deadly hate, he paused for moment then
pinioned the tory's arms, and with a rapid
stride dragged him to the verge of the rock,
and held him quivering over the abyss.
"Mercy!' gasped the Tory, turning ashy
pale by turns, as that awful gulf yawned
below. Mercy! have wife and child
at homc-spare me "
The Continental, with his muscular
strength gathered for the effort, shook the
murderer once more over the abyss, and
then hsscd this bitter snecr in his face:
"My brother had a wife and two children
The morning after the night of Paoli, that
wife was a widow, those children orphans.
Would you not like to go aud beg your life
of the widow and her orphans ?"
The proposal made by the Continental
in moclery and bitter hate, was taken in
serious earnest by the terror stricken Tory
He asked to be taken to the widow and her
children, and to have the privilege of beg
ging his lifo. After a moments serious
thought, the patriot soldier consented He
bound the Tory's arms still tighter, placed
him OF the rock again, and led him to the
woods. A quiet cottage embossed among
the trees, broke on their eyes. They enter
ed the cottage. There, beside the desolate
hearthstone sat the widow and her chill
dren.
They sat there, matronly woman of
about thirty three years, with face faded
by care, deep, dark eye, and long, black
hair, hanging in dislievellcd state about
her shoulders. On one side was dark
haired boy Of some six years, on the other
side girl one year younger, with light blue
eyes. The Biblc-an old and venerable VOL
ume-lay open upon the mothers lap. And
now the pale-faccd Tory flung himself upon
his knees. and confessed he had butchered
her husband on the night Of Paoli, and beg
ged his life at her hands.
'Spare me for the sake of my wife and
chil:-"
He expected the ptiful moan would touch
the widows heart, but not one relenting
CLEAN softened her face
'The Lord shall judge between u.s." she
said, in cold icy tone that froze the muir
derer's heart "Look, the Bible is in my
lap; | will close the volume, and this boy
shall open it and place his fingers at random
upon line, and by that you shall live or
die.'
This was strong proposal, made in good
faith of wild and dark superstition Of old
en- times. For moment, the Tory, pale as
ashes, was wrapped in deep thought--thcn
in fainting voice he signified his consent.
Raising her dark eyes to heaven, the moth
er prayed to the Great Father to direct the
fingers of her son. She closed the book
handed it to that boy whose cheek Redeemed
with loathing as he gazed on his father
murderer. He took the Bible, opened its
pages at random, and placed his finger on
4 verse.
There was silence. The Continental
soldier, who had sworn to avenge his broth
er's death, stood with dilating eyes and
parted lips. The culprit kneeling upon the
floor with his face like discolored clay, felt
his heart leap to his throat
Then in clear, bold voice, the widow
read this line from the Old Testament. 1t
was short, yet terrible:
THAT man shall die ~
plunge knife into the murderer's heart,
but the Tory, pinioned as he is, clngs to the
widows knee. He bcgs that one more tri-
al may be made by the little girl, that child
Of five years, with the golden hair and laugh
ing eyes.
The widow consents. There is an awful
pause. With smile in her eyes, without
knowing what she was doing, the little girl
opens the Bible as it lay on her mothers
knee; she turned her face away and placed
her finger upon a line.
The awful silence grows deeper. The
deep drawn breaths of the brother, and
broken gasps Of the murderer, alone dis
turhs the stiffness, the widow and dark.
haired boy were breathless. The little girl
as she caught feeling Of awe from those
about her, stood breathless; her face turned
aside and her tiny fingers resting on the
lines of life or death.
At length gathering courage, the widow
bent her eye upon the page and read--it
was line from the New Testament:
"Loye your enemies -
Oh, book of terrible majesty and child like
love--of sublimity that crushes the heart
with rapture, you never shone more strong.
~ l.i1u lHSiS III lilll ioueiy Col VI tllS " as
sahickon, when you saved the murderer S
heart.
Now look how wonderful are the ways OF
heaven. That very night, as the widow
sat by her fireside--sat there with crush
ed heart and hot eye-lids, thinking Of her
husband who now lay mouldering on the
drenched soil of Paoli--there was tap at
the door. She opened it, and that husband
living, though covered with wounds, was in
her arms.
He had fallen IN p aoli, but not in death
he was alive, and his wife lay painting on
his bosom.
That night there was much prayer in the
wood embowered cottag, Of Wassahickon