To die were sad enough--to die by
violence, by the power of the innocent elements, were dreadful, or to be
torn of beasts; to meet the wild, fierce eye, with its fixed and deadly
purpose, more dreadful; but ah, to see the human soul, from the
murderers eye glaring on you, to encounter the human will in its
wickedness, amid that wild struggle--Oh God! spare me.
_Jan_. If you fear them so, surely you will not go with them.
_Helen_. This letter says they are kind and innocent. One I _should_
believe tells me there is no cause for fear. In his haste he could not
find no other way to send for me.--The army will be here soon,--I _must_
go with them.
_Jan_. But Captain Grey will come back here again this afternoon.
Stay,--stay, and we will go with him.
_Helen_. You can--yes, you will be safe. For myself, I will abide my
choice. Surely I need not dread to go where my betrothed husband trusts
me so fearlessly. I count my life worth little more than the price at
which he values it. Clasp this mantle, Netty.--And is it thus I go forth
from these blessed walls at last?--Through all those safe and quiet
hours of peace and trust, did this dark end to them lie waiting
here?--Are they calling me?
_Jan_.
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