"Oh! don't! don't!" shrieked the poor woman as she writhed in agony.
"I'll tell! I will, gentlemens--I will--I will! Oh, my God! don't!
_don't!_" she cried, as she leaped wildly about, tearing
the one garment away in her efforts to avoid the blows which fell
thick and fast on every part of her person, now fully exposed in
the bright light.
"Speak, then!" said the man who held the goad. "Out with it! Tell
where you've hid him!"
"He ain't--here, gentlemen! He--he--don't--stay here no mo'."
Again the blows came thick and fast. She fell upon the ground and
rolled in the dust to avoid them. Her round black limbs glistened
in the yellow light as she writhed from side to side.
"Here I am--here!" came a wild, shrill shriek from Eliab's cabin.
Casting a glance towards it, one of the men saw a blanched and
pallid face pressed against the window and lighted by the blazing
church--the face of him who was wont to minister there to the people
who did not know their own "best friends!"
"There he is!"--"Bring the damn rascal out!"--"He's the one we
want, anyhow!"
These and numerous other shouts of similar character, beat upon
the ears of the terrified watcher, as the crowd of masked marauders
rushed towards the little cabin which had been his home ever since
Red Wing had passed into the possession of its present owner. It
was the first building erected under the new proprietorship, and
was substantially built of pine logs.
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