At a Girl's Mercy, or, The Fortunes of War — page 82: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

AT A GIRL’S MEROY. 71 she. might welcome death when it came, and she was only turning to stone before they shot her, be- fore the cold lead—— She started and shivered, the set smile slowly faded from her lips, and her teeth began to chatter. After all, she wasn’t dead, only it was so cold turn- ing to stone. It was so sad. A poor young thing on the brink of death, and life was so warm, so beautiful and full of love. The poor girl, she said, and she looked pityingly ‘down on the cold hands still clasped in prayer; and she had done nothing—nothing; she was only trying to be free, to help others to be free. That wasn’t a crime, surely that wasn’t a crime, and yet, poor girl, she must die for it. How was it right for one to die so when one had committed no crime? Was it a Just God who allowed a man, because he was white, to take at will the life of a servant who had always been faithful, whose only fault—if fault it was—was a desire for freedom? Was it a just God who al- lowed this to go on? But, then, what had she to do with God? She, who was turning to stone, and would so soon be dead? A sudden revulsion of feeling swept over her ; she was trembling, shivering with excitement and _ter- ror; she lifted her two clasped hands above her © head, her lifted eyes tearless and burning, ‘““Lawd!’’ she cried, in a tense whisper that shook her with dread. ‘‘Lawd, ef yo’ is pitifu’ an’ o’ ten- der murssy, es Mr. Johnsing tells us, doan’ let et happ’n, doan’ let et happ’n. Et’s cruel, Lawd, et cayn’t be right. The chile es so young an’ ain’ done no harm. Save her, Lawd, ef yo’ ’s pitifu’,”? Then, with a wild sob struggling in her throat and Eomichoo cS al . (e(0)