How can I
worship a God who sends or permits such a thing? You are braver than
I. I could see a man shot, but I couldn't look upon what you have
described. Yet the picture brings back the moment when we parted--when
you struggled feebly in my arms with a premonition of your almost
mortal weakness, and then sank back white and deathlike. If you had
not made so wise and brave an effort you might have lingered on in
torture like this poor girl. You stood in just that peril, did you
not?"
"I suppose I did."
"Oh, what a clod I was! I used to hear you cough night after night,
and I would mutter, 'Poor Madge!' and go to sleep. To think that you
might have suffered as this girl is suffering! I never realized it
before, yet I thought I did. I can't tell you how my whole nature
rebels at it all, and pious talk about resignation in the presence of
such scenes fairly makes me grind my teeth;" and his brow blackened
like night in his mental revolt, and his eyes were sternly fixed in
honest, indignant arraignment of the Power he did not scruple to defy,
though so impotent to resist.
Madge brushed away her tears, and watched him earnestly for a moment.
In that confused instant she exulted in the strong, generous, kindly
manhood that would not cringe even to omnipotence when apparently
cruel.
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