When the light came I found the poor little sister there near where they had dragged us both, and she was _alive_.

Can you realise how awful that was--that she had lived through it?
God be thanked, she died before the day was out.
"After that the other mutilated bodies, the plundered wagons, all seemed less horrible to me.

My heart had been seared over.

They had killed twenty of the Saints, and the most of them we hurried to throw into a well, fearful that the soldiers of Governor Boggs would come back at any moment to strip and hack them.

O God! and now you have gone over to one of them!" "Joel,--dear, _dear_ Joel!--indeed I pity and sympathise--and care for--but I cannot go--even after all you say.