an't speak for or defend herself; but if I were to stand here till
judgment day, I'd say it was false. You were misled or mistaken, or your
own bad, suspicious nature made you do her wrong; an' even if it was
thrue--which it is not, but false as hell--why would you crash and
wring her daughter's heart by a knowledge of it? Couldn't you let me get
through the short but bitther passage of life that's before me, without
addin' this to the other thoughts that's distractin' me?"

"I did it, as I said," he replied, "to make you harden your heart,
an' to prevent you from puttin' any trust in the world, or expectin'
anything either of thruth or goodness from it."

She started, as if some new light had broken in upon her, and turning to
him, said--

"Maybe I undherstand you, father--I hope I do. Oh, could it be that
you wor wanst--a--a--a betther man--a man that had a heart for
fellow-creatures, and cared for them? I'm lookin' into my own heart
now, and I don't doubt but I might be brought to the same state yet. Ha,
that's terrible to think of; but again, I can't believe it. Father, you
can stoop to lies an' falsity--that I could not do; but no matther; you
wor wanst a good man, maybe. Am I right?"

The Prophet turned round, and fixing his eyes upon his daughter, they
stood each gazing upon the other for some time. He then looked for
a moment into the ground, after which he sat down upon a stool, and
covering his face with both his hands, remained in that position for two
or three minutes.

"Am I right, father?" she repeated.

He raised his eyes, and looking upon her with his usual composure,
replied--

"No--you are wrong--you are very wrong. When I was a light-hearted,
affectionate boy, playing with my brothers and sisters, I was a villain.
When I grew into youth, Sarah, an' thought every one full of honesty an'
truth, an' the world all kindness, an' nothin' about me but goodness,
an' generosity, an' affection, I was, of coorse, a villain. When I loved
the risin' sun--when I looked upon the stars of heaven with a wonderin'
and happy heart--when the dawn of mornin' and the last light of the
summer evening filled me with joy, and made me love every one and
everything about me--the trees, the runnin' rivers, the green fields,
and all that God--ha, what am I sayin'?--I was a villain. When I loved
an' married your mother, an' when she--but no matther--when all these
things happened, I was, I say, a villain; but now that thin