Page:The leopard's spots - a romance of the white man's burden-1865-1900 (IA leopardsspotsrom00dixo).pdf/408

 The Preacher slipped his arm around the old soldier's neck, and smoothed the tangled hair back from his forehead as he said brokenly,

"Tom, I love you! My whole soul is melted in sympathy and pity for you!"

The stricken man looked up into the face of his friend, saw his tears and felt the warmth of his love flood his heart, and at last he burst into tears.

"Oh! Preacher, Preacher! you're a good friend I know, but I'm done, I can't live any more! Every minute, day and night, I'll hear them awful screams—her a callin' me for help! I can see her lyin' out there in the woods all night alone moanin' and bleedin'!"

His breast heaved and he paused as if in reverie. And then he sprang up, his face livid and convulsed with volcanic passions, that half strangled him while he shrieked,

"Oh! if I only had him here before me now, and God Almighty would give me strength with these hands to tear his breast open and rip his heart out!—I—could—eat—it—like—a—wolf!"

When they reached the cemetery the next day and the body was about to be lowered into the grave, Tom suddenly spied old Uncle Reuben Worth leaning on his spade by the edge of the crowd. Uncle Reuben was the grave digger of the town and the only negro present.

"Wait!" said Tom raising his hand. "Don't put her in that grave! A nigger dug it. I can't stand it." He turned to a group of old soldier comrades standing by and said,

"Boys, humour an old broken man once more. You'll dig another grave for me, won't you? It won't take long. The folks can go home that don't want to stay. I ain't got no home to go to now but this graveyard."