surprise he felt was strongly marked on
his countenance.
"Thee, George Hope! Oh, poor Lary, how basely I have injured him."
"Oh, do not--do not say so!" cried George, weeping bitterly. "I only am
to blame. Ah, Josiah! dear good Josiah! I fear you will never love me,
or call me friend or brother, after this disgraceful disclosure. Yet do
forgive me? and I will never act so unworthily again." He would have
thrown himself at his feet, but the noble boy prevented him, by raising
him in his arms.
"Indeed, George, I did not suspect thee of such a crime; but I forgive
thee, from my very heart. But poor Lary! I cannot pardon myself for
having suspected him, without being certain of his guilt; and then the
circumstance of the hatchet being found in the garden, and Rachel's
rabbits being in his son's possession--how could all that come about?"
"Oh, Josiah!" replied George, "the more I reveal of this dreadful
business, the more shocking it will appear; but, as I have commenced the
narration, I will continue it to the end."
He then faithfully informed the young Quaker of the whole transaction,
not sparing himself at all in the relation. Josiah was shocked and
astonished at the depravity of heart, and the depth of dissimulation,
that had been shown throughout this disgraceful affair; and, when George
finished speaking, he grasped his hand firmly, and said:--
"Bless the hour, George, when the waters ingulfed thee, and the long and
lingering illness which bowed down thy exhausted frame, if they were
the means of snatching thee from guilt like this."
"And, above all," cried George, pressing Josiah's hand to his heart,
"the kind friend who not only forgave the injuries I had so undeservedly
heaped upon his head, but saved my worthless life, at the peril of his
own, and, by his unremitting care and advice, has brought me to a full
conviction of my past guilt."
"Say no more, George; I have only one request to make, which will
sufficiently repay me for all my trouble. Let us go instantly to poor
Lary and state the case to him; I cannot be happy till I have asked his
pardon for the unjust suspicion which I have attached to his name. I
know the honest creature so well that I am sure we shall never have any
reason to repent trusting to his generosity."
This George willingly consented to do; and he felt so much happier since
he had opened his mind to his friend, that he no longer dreaded the
interview with Lary; and, after b
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