Cruel As The Grave

So Mr. Berners, while wishing to reward his services, felt a difficulty

as to the manner of doing so.

At length, however, he continued: "Mr. Nye, I said at the beginning of our talk, that I could tell you

something to your advantage."

"Well, and, bless my soul alive, haven't you done it? I wonder if I

could hear of anything more to my advantage than the chance of helping

to resky that lady as I have felt for so much?" warmly inquired the

farmer.

"You have a generous and noble nature to look upon it in that light."

"No, I haven't; but I'm a man, I reckon, and not a beast nor a devil,

and that's all about it."

"Well, farmer, I confess that when I first spoke to you, I thought of

offering you a heavy bribe to allow us to go free, and that was what I

meant when I said I had something to propose to your advantage."

"Then I'm glad you didn't do it--that's all."

"I am glad too, for now I know your magnanimous heart would have led you

to serve us without reward, and even at great loss."

"Yes, that it would," naively assented the farmer.

"And even so we accept and shall ever be grateful for your services,"

added Lyon Berners, gravely. And all the while he was slily examining

the contents of his pocketbook. At length he drew a five hundred dollar

note from the compartment in which he knew he kept notes of that

denomination, and he slipped it into a blank envelope, and held it ready

in his hand.

In another moment they were at the stable door, before which Sybil

stood, leaning on the bowed neck of her own horse, while Robert Munson

held the other horse.

Before Lyon Berners could speak, Farmer Nye impetuously pushed past him,

and rushed up to Sybil, pulled off his hat and put out his hand,

exclaiming: "Give me your hand, lady. I beg your pardon ten thousand times over for

all I said and did to affront you, not knowing who you was. But now,

lady, here is a man who don't believe you to be innocent, because he

knows that you are so, and who will fight for you as long as he has

got a whole bone left in his body, and shed his blood for you as long as

he has got a drop left in his veins."

Overcome by this ardent testimonial to her innocence, Sybil burst into

tears, and took the rough hand that had been held out to her, and wept

over it, and pressed it warmly to her lips, and then to her heart.

"Yes, that I will. I'll die before a hair of your head shall be hurt,"

exclaimed the farmer, utterly overwhelmed and blubbering.