I bow my head in the dust and am silent
before Thee. Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?"
His meditations were interrupted by the entrance of the chaplain of the
jail--a venerable Christian who felt a deep interest in the prisoner,
and who now sought him to try and awaken him to a full sense of his
awful situation.
"My son," he said, laying his hand upon Anthony's shoulder, "how is it
with you this night? What is God saying to your soul?"
"All is well," replied Anthony. "He is speaking to me words of peace and
comfort."
"Your fellow-men have condemned you--" he paused then added with a deep
sigh, "--and I too, Anthony Hurdlestone, believe you guilty."
"God has not condemned me, good father, and by the light of His glorious
countenance that now shines upon me, shedding joy and peace into my
heart, I am innocent."
"Oh, that I could think you so!"
"Though it has seemed right in the eyes of the All-wise Sovereign of the
universe that I should be pronounced guilty before an earthly bar, I
feel assured that He, in His own good time, will declare my innocence."
"Will that profit you aught, my son, when you are dust?"
"It will rescue my name from infamy, and give me a mournful interest in
the memory of my friends."
"Poor lad, this is but a melancholy consolation; I wish I could believe
you.
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