Conscious of innocence, and aware that detachments were often
abroad on such authorized quests, Mr. Reynolds unbarred his door.
The moment he opened it he saw his terrible error; not soldiers,
but the members of the mountain gang, were crouched like wild
beasts ready to spring upon him.
"Fly, father!" cried Phebe. "They won't hurt us;" but before the
bewildered man could think what to do, the door flew open from the
pressure of half a dozen wild-looking desperadoes, and he was
powerless in their grasp. They evidently designed murder, but not
a quick and merciful "taking off"; they first heaped upon their
victim the vilest epithets, seeking in their thirst for revenge to
inflict all the terrors of death in anticipation. The good man,
however, now face to face with his fate, grew calm and resigned.
Exasperated by his courage, they began to cut and torture him with
their swords and knives. Phebe rushed forward to interpose her
little form between her father and the ruffians, and was dashed,
half stunned, into a corner of the room.
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