Could I refuse? This question was discussed in all its bearings,
in a few lightning-like progresses of thought. I felt all its
difficulties--anticipated the annoyances to which it would subject
me, and the degree of self-forbearance which it would necessarily
require; yet, when I looked on the noble old gentleman who sat
beside me--his gray hairs, his pleading looks, the recollection of
the deep debt of gratitude which I owed him--I put my hand in his;
I could resist no longer.
"I will try!" was the brief answer which I made him.
"God bless, God speed you!" he exclaimed, squeezing my hand with a
pressure that said everything, and we separated; he for his family,
and I for that new task which I had undertaken. How different from
my previous purpose! I was now to seek to save the person whom I
had set forth that morning with the purpose (if I had any purpose)
to destroy. What a volume made up of contradictions and inconsistencies,
strangely bound together, is the moral world of man!