" At these
words, Wringhim uttered a hollow exulting laugh, put his hands
in his pockets, and withdrew a space to his accustomed distance.
George continued: "And now, once for all, I request that we may
exchange forgiveness, and that we may part and remain friends."
"Would such a thing be expedient, think you? Or consistent with
the glory of God? I doubt it."
"I can think of nothing that would be more so. Is it not consistent
with every precept of the Gospel? Come, brother, say that our
reconciliation is complete."
"Oh yes, certainly!. I tell you, brother, according to the flesh: it is
just as complete as the lark's is with the adder, no more so, nor
ever can. Reconciled, forsooth! To what would I be reconciled?"
As he said this, he strode indignantly away. From the moment
that he heard his life was safe, he assumed his former insolence
and revengeful looks--and never were they more dreadful than on
parting with his brother that morning on the top of the hill. "Well,
go thy way," said George; "some would despise, but I pity thee. If
thou art not a limb of Satan, I never saw one."
The sun had now dispelled the vapours; and, the morning being
lovely beyond description, George sat himself down on the top of
the hill, and pondered deeply on the unaccountable incident that
had befallen to him that morning.
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