VII

“Someone who has been with you through all your hours of sin and trouble⁠—who has known every thought you have had⁠—has seen where you went, where you lay down and rose up again, and all the deeds you have tried to hide in darkness. And on Monday, when I can’t follow you, when my arms can’t reach you, when death has parted us, He who is with you now and knows all, will be with you then. It makes no difference⁠—whether we live or die we are in the presence of God.” “Oh, Dinah, won’t nobody do anything for me? Will they hang me for certain?⁠ ⁠… I wouldn’t mind if they’d let me live⁠ ⁠… help me.⁠ ⁠… I can’t feel anything like you⁠ ⁠… my heart is hard.” Dinah held the clinging hand, and all her soul went forth in her voice: “… Come, mighty Saviour! let the dead hear Thy voice; let the eyes of the blind be opened: let her see that God encompasses her; let her tremble at nothing but the sin that cuts her off from Him. Melt the hard heart; unseal the closed lips: make her cry with her whole soul, ‘Father, I have sinned.’ ” “Dinah,” Hetty sobbed out, throwing her arms round Dinah’s neck, “I will speak⁠ ⁠… I will tell⁠ ⁠… I won’t hide it any more. I did do it, Dinah⁠ ⁠… I buried in the wood⁠ ⁠… the little baby⁠ ⁠… and it cried⁠ ⁠… I heard it cry⁠ ⁠… ever such a way off⁠ ⁠… all night⁠ ⁠… and I went back because it cried.” She paused and then spoke hurriedly in a louder pleading tone. “But I thought perhaps it wouldn’t die⁠—there might somebody find it. I didn’t kill it⁠—I didn’t kill it myself. I