Page:Our Neighbor-Mexico.djvu/459

 Rh This is the story as told by Mr. Watkins, his colleague, and printed in the Missionary Herald:

"For three months he labored with success far beyond our most lost sanguine expectations, winning many souls to the truth as it is in Jesus. He had gained, through his labor of love, the favor of the majority of the people of Ahualulco. This grand success infuriated the cura, and the day before Mr. Stephens's death he preached a most exciting sermon to the numerous Indians who had gathered there, from the various ranchos and pueblos near by, in which he said, It is necessary to cut down, even to the roots, the tree that bears bad fruit. You may interpret these words as you please. And on March 2, at one o'clock in the morning, a mob of over two hundred men, armed with muskets, axes, clubs, and swords, approached the house where Mr. Stephens lived, crying, 'Long live the religion!' 'Long live the Señor Cura!' 'Death to the Protestants!'

"The house which dear Stephens occupied was fronting the public plaza, and on the opposite side of the plaza were a few soldiers, acting as guard to the prison and to the town, from whom he expected protection. But we have learned that these soldiers, instead of giving him protection, aided the enemy to carry out their evil design of murder and robbery. As soon as Mr. Stephens and the two brethren that were with him saw that the mob was fast breaking down the front door they entered an open square, which was in the centre of the house. From this square, Mr. Stephens and Andres, one of the brethren, made their way into the back yard, seeking there a place of shelter. Here they separated, Mr. Stephens taking a pair of stairs that led to a hay-loft, and Andres making his escape by climbing over the wall of the back yard and letting himself down among the ruins of an old house, from which he made his way, unseen by the mob, to the mountains.

"Mr. Stephens had been in the hay-loft but a few moments when the furious throng entered, and he, seeing in the crowd the soldiers alluded to, ran to meet them, thinking they had come to his help; and when he cried out, 'Protect me! Protect me!' they replied, 'They come! They come!' and at the same time soldiers and others discharged their muskets and other fire-arms nil our beloved brother, killing him instantly. One shot entered his eye, and several his breast, and as soon as the villains reached him they used their swords, cutting his head literally to pieces, and it is said, taking the brains out with sticks.

"Nor was it enough for these ferocious assassins to take his life away so inhumanly, aid commit such barbarities on the dead body, but they afterward robbed his body of every article he had on, and the house of every thing he had in it. They took all his books and burned them in the public plaza. The small English Bible that was in the dear martyr's hand when he died shared the same