“And indeed upon the air came the sound of a great, horrible, yelling roar unspeakably dreadful.  It seems never to have been out of my ears since.  I do not know whether an American mob would have proceeded to extremities with a lonely woman and dying child, but there was an Irish and Spanish element of ferocity at Burkeville, and the cold, hard Englishwoman was unpopular, besides that, I was supposed to share in the irregular practice that had had such fatal effects.  But with that horrible sound, one did not stop to weigh probabilities.  I gathered up my child in her bed-clothes, and followed the boy out at the back door, blindly.  And where do you think I found myself? where but in the minister’s house?  His wife, whose daughter had just been carried out to her grave, rose up from weeping and praying, to take me into the innermost chamber, where none could see me, and when she saw my darling’s state, to give me all the help and sympathy a good woman could.  Oh! that was my first true knowledge of Christian charity.

“Mr. Field himself was striving at the very grave itself to turn away the rage of these men against those whom they held his daughter’s murderers, but he was as nothing against some fifty or sixty gathered, I suppose, some by real or fancied wrongs, some from mere love of violence.  Any way, when he found himself powerless against the infuriated speeches of the young Irish lover, he put his little boy over the graveyard wall, and sent him off to take me to the last place where the mob would look for me, the very room where Annie died.  Those howls and yells round the empty house, perhaps, too, the shaking of my rapid run, hastened the end with my precious child.  I do not believe she could have lived many hours, but the fright brought on shudderings and convulsions, and she was gone from me by nine that evening.  They might have torn me to pieces then, and I would have thanked them!  I cannot tell you the goodness of the Fields.  It could not comfort me then, but I have wondered over it often since.” (There were blistered, blotted tear marks here.) “They knew it was not safe for me to remain, for there had been wild talk of a warrant out against us for manslaughter.  They would have had me leave my little darling’s form to their care, but they saw I dreaded (unreasonably I now think) some insult from those ruffians for her father’s sake.  Mr. Field said I should lay my little one to her rest myself.  They found a long basket like a cradle.  We laid her there in her own night-dress, looking so sweet and lovely.  Mr. Field himself went out and dug the little grave, close to Annie’s, and there by moonlight we laid her, and the good man put one of the many wreaths from Annie’s grave upon hers, and there we knelt and he prayed.  I don’t know what denomination his may be, but a Christian I know he is.  Cruel as the very sight of me must have been, they kept me in bed all the next day; and the minister went to