But Marshall would shake his head, sadly, in rejection of all arguments and persuasions.

“It may all seem easy enough for you,” he would sometimes say, “who have never broken a solemn pledge; but you know not how utter a destruction of internal moral power such an act, deliberately done, effects.  I am not the man I was, before I so wickedly violated that solemn compact made between myself and heaven—­for so I now look upon it.  While I kept my pledge, I had the sustaining power of heaven to bear me safely up against all temptations;—­but since the very moment it was broken, I have had nothing but my own strength to lean upon, and that has proved to be no better than a broken reed, piercing me through with many sorrows.”

To such declarations, in answer to arguments, and sometimes earnest entreaties made by his friends to induce him to renew his pledge, Mrs. Marshall would listen in silence, but with a sinking, sickening sensation of mind and body.  All and more than she could say, was said to him, but he resisted every appeal—­and what good could her weak persuasions and feeble admonitions do?

Day after day passed on, and Marshall gradually gained more use of his limbs.  In six weeks, he could walk without the aid of his crutches.

“I think I must try and get down to the store to-morrow,” he said, to his wife, about this time.  “This is a busy season, and I can be of some use there for two or three hours, every day.”

“I don’t think I would venture out yet,” Mrs. Marshall said, looking at him, with an anxious, troubled expression of countenance, that she tried in vain to conceal.

“Why not, Jane?”

“I don’t think you are strong enough, dear.”

“O, yes, I am.  And, besides, it will do me good to go out and take the fresh air.  You know that it is now six weeks since I have been outside of the front door.”

“I know it has.  But—­”

“But what, Jane?”

“You know what I would say, Jonas.  You know the terrible fear that rests upon my heart like a night-mare.”

And Mrs. Marshall covered her face with her hands, and gave way to tears.

A long silence followed this.  At length Marshall said,

“I hope, Jane, that I shall be able to restrain myself.  I am, at least, resolved to try.”

“O, husband, if you will only try!” Mrs. Marshall ejaculated eagerly, lifting her tearful eyes, and looking him with an appealing expression in the face—­“If you will only try!”

“I will try, Jane.  But do not feel too much confidence in my effort.  I am weak—­so weak that I tremble when I think of it—­and remember what an almost irresistible influence I have to contend with.”

“Why not take the pledge, again, Jonas?” said his wife, for the first time she had urged that recourse upon him.

“You have heard my reasons given for that, over and over again.”

“I know I have.  But they never satisfied me.”