As he and I who had travelled far together these
many years sojourned there in the way of business, I felt the air grow
colder, I saw the cloud gathering. I entreated, but he would not go. If
trouble must come, then he would be with the Christians in their peril.
At last he saw with me the truth. He had a plan of escape. There was a
Christian weaver with his wife in a far quarter--against my entreaty he
went to warn them. The storm broke. He was the first to fall, smitten in
'that street called Straight.' I found him soon after. Thus did he speak
to me--even in these words: 'The blood of women and children shed here
to-day shall cry from the ground. Unprovoked the host has turned wickedly
upon his guest. The storm has been sown, and the whirlwind must be
reaped. Out of this evil good shall come. Shall not the Judge of all the
earth do right?' These were his last words to me then. As his life ebbed
out, he wrote a letter which I have brought hither to one"--he turned to
David--"whom he loved. At the last he took off his hat, and lay with it
in his hands, and died.
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