But now he knew that he had killed a man, and a brother--now he knew
that no good thing could come out of this evil, even to the
sufferers whose cause he had so blindly espoused.
He lay across the table, broken-hearted. Every fresh quivering sob
of Mr. Carson's stabbed him to his soul.
He felt execrated by all; and as if he could never lay bare the
perverted reasonings which had made the performance of undoubted sin
appear a duty. The longing to plead some faint excuse grew stronger
and stronger. He feebly raised his head, and looking at Job Legh,
he whispered out--
"I did not know what I was doing, Job Legh; God knows I didn't! O
sir!" said he wildly, almost throwing himself at Mr. Carson's feet,
"say you forgive me the anguish I now see I have caused you. I care
not for pain, or death, you know I don't; but oh, man! forgive me
the trespass I have done!"
"Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive them that trespass against
us," said Job, solemnly and low, as if in prayer: as if the words
were suggested by those John Barton had used.
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