He hoped to live to see Murrell hanged!
He was so completely lost in his bitter reflections that he had
been unaware of a mounted man who was coming toward him at a
swift gallop, but now he heard the steady pounding of hoofs and,
startled by the sound, looked up. A moment later the horseman
drew rein at his side.
"Ware!" he cried.
"How are you, Carrington?" said the planter.
"You are wanted at Belle Plain," began Carrington, and seemed to
hesitate.
"Yes--yes, I am going there at once--now--" stammered Ware, and
gathered up his reins with a shaking hand.
"You've heard, I take it?" said Carrington slowly.
"Yes," answered Ware, in a hoarse whisper. "My God, Carrington,
I'm heart sick; she has been like a daughter to me!" he fell
silent mopping his face.
"I think I understand your feeling," said Carrington, giving him
a level glance.
"Then you'll excuse me," and the planter clapped spurs to his
horse. Once he looked back over his shoulder; he saw that
Carrington had not moved from the spot where they had met.
At Belle Plain, Ware found his neighbors in possession of the
place. They greeted him quietly and spoke in subdued tones of
their sympathy. The planter listened with an air of such abject
misery that those who had neither liked nor respected him, were
roused to a sudden generous feeling where he was concerned, they
could not question but that he was deeply affected. After all
the man might have a side to his nature with which they had never
come in contact.
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