The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1905-10-04
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
stranger who bad accosted me; but had
/ questioned myself, I would have ac-
knowledged neither of these as the
cause of my lingering near the house
Of worship. When evening came was
still there.
was not at so great distance from
the church that ! could not hear the
singing at the evening service; true, it
came family to my ears, but my senses
were abnormally sharpened. Amid all
the voices l detected that which had
stirred me in the morning, and was
glad when heard it and sorry when
it ceased. They were the first human.
izing sensations / had experienced in
many months. The service ended, and
all was again silent. 1t was fine
evening, and / resolved to pass the
night in the wood, and recommence my
wanderings in the early morning.
reckoned upon complete solitude, but
it was not to be mine.
Three persons strolled in the direc.
ton of the spot upon which 1 was
lying, and stopped within short dis
tance. of me. A clump Of trees and
the gathering darkness concealed me
from their observation. One Of the
persons began to speak, and l recog-
nized his voice. 1t was that Of the,
man who had spoken so kindly to me
in the churchyard. I raised myself
into sitting posture, and bent forward
to see. In the mans company were
woman and q young girl, whose face
! could not distinguish, but whose form
reminded me of Eunice. The father
was telling them of his meeting with
me, and the manner in which had
met his kind words.
HE is a stanger here" the man said;
II have never seen his face before.
Indeed, / saw but little Of it now, 1T
was so covered with tangled hair. Poor
fellow! Some deep trouble is weighing
upon himr'
"Perhaps, father" said the young
girl, "he was. hungry"
II think not" was the fathers an
swer, "or be would have behaved diff
ferently. Hunger is a sharp monitor,
my dear. He was not hungry; he was
defiant. / thought at first he must he
O beggar, but was mistaken. He
looked to me more like hunted animal
than q human being"
"a man escaped from prison, per-
baps," suggested the mother.
"It may be; but, if so, a long time
must have elapsed since he made his
escape; otherwise his hair would not
have been so abundant. Before spoke
to him / noticed in his eyes he was not
aware that I was observing him) a
look of singular refinement, and l am
sure that at some period Of his life
he has moved in good position. Per-
haps he had a happy home, like ours;
perhaps he had a wife and child whom
he loved as 1 love you. To have en-
joyed such happiness and to have lost
it-ah, my dears, it is a sad thought!
If tlIat poor mans heart were laid
bare before us, we should see it throb-
bing with suffering-unmerited, may
hap, but likely, too, to have been ere
ated by error or sin. Should ! meet
him again I will strive to learn his
story, and will help him if he will let
me-"
They passed on, with further words
of pity for me. l waited till the earth
was silroudcd in darkness, and then l
fed from the wood. There was terror
in the idea Of meeting that kind heart
again.
From the gloomy months could
pluck other records, but they would
not help my story. More and more in
sensible did become to influences Of
humanizing nature; harder and harder
grew my heart; and there came periods
of savage delirium, when, in my DESC
lation, I raised my clenched hand heaV-
onward, and cried, "There is no God!'
For the bitter question forced itself
upon me, why should l be thus pun
ished? The evil within me was not Of
my creating; the sleeping instinct of
savagery which had led me to an un-
conscious committal Of q deed Of blood
was not Of my planting. In my waking
hours had lived q good life, and had
held deservediy an honored and beloved
position in my home. I was kind to
the poor, and my heart was always
open to the call of charity. Why, then,
should I be compelled to wander
through the world more like hunted
animal than a human being" If there
was q God, and He was good, would
He have permitted it2 In the peril
Of these thoughts lay deeper danger
than that which sprang from the sin
which weighed upon my soul.
CHAPTER XVI.
The necessity of earning bread forced
me to seek labor. My money was all