If I'd had my guns--" "Either my friend or the Elder of my church would be lying dead," she interposed.
"Tull would be--surely." "Oh, you fierce-blooded, savage youth! Can't I teach you forebearance, mercy?
Bern, it's divine to forgive your enemies.

'Let not the sun go down upon thy wrath.'" "Hush! Talk to me no more of mercy or religion--after to-day.

To-day this strange coming of Lassiter left me still a man, and now I'll die a man!...

Give me my guns." Silently she went into the house, to return with a heavy cartridge-belt and gun-filled sheath and a long rifle; these she handed to him, and as he buckled on the belt she stood before him in silent eloquence.
"Jane," he said, in gentler voice, "don't look so.

I'm not going out to murder your churchman.