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Cooper, James Fenimore, 1789-1851

"The Spy"

Had they
been a quarter of an hour later, I must have died. There was I placed in
the midst of unfeeling men, and gaping women and children, as a monster
to be cursed. When I would pray to God, my ears were insulted with the
history of my crimes; and when, in all that multitude, I looked around
for a single face that showed me any pity, I could find none--no, not
even one; all cursed me as a wretch who would sell his country for gold.
The sun was brighter to my eyes than common--but it was the last time I
should see it. The fields were gay and pleasant, and everything seemed
as if this world was a kind of heaven. Oh, how sweet life was to me at
that moment! 'Twas a dreadful hour, Captain Wharton, and such as you
have never known. You have friends to feel for you, but I had none but a
father to mourn my loss, when he might hear of it; but there was no
pity, no consolation near, to soothe my anguish. Everything seemed to
have deserted me. I even thought that HE had forgotten that I lived."
"What! did you feel that God Himself had forgotten you, Harvey?"
"God never forsakes His servants," returned Birch, with reverence, and
exhibiting naturally a devotion that hitherto he had only assumed.
"And whom did you mean by HE?"
The peddler raised himself in his saddle to the stiff and upright
posture that was suited to his outward appearance.


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