The intense hatred he felt for this man swept across him fiercely, for an instant driving out of his heart all thought of mercy.

As suddenly he remembered the helpless woman yonder, within easy view, possibly even then upon her knees in supplication.

It was this conception that aroused him.

He withdrew his dull gaze from off that hateful, mocking face, his clenched hands opening, his mind responding to a new-born will.

"Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord"-- like an echo, perhaps from the very prayer her lips were speaking, the solemn words came into his consciousness.
With face white, and lips trembling, he stepped suddenly back, and flung up one hand.
"Don't fire, boys!" he commanded, his voice ringing clear and purposeful.