McGlashan. You will hear no change from my death-bed, for what I have
told you is true."
There, with a man's honor and soul to uncover, I had scarcely breathed
while he spoke. I watched the expression of his face, his words, his
hands. His eyes did not turn from my face; his hand between mine lay as
untrembling as that of a child in peaceful sleep; and so, unflinchingly
Lewis Keseberg passed the ordeal which would have made a guilty man
quake.
I felt the truth of his assertion, and told him that if it would be any
comfort to him at that late day to know that Tamsen Donner's daughter
believed him innocent of her murder, he had that assurance in my words,
and that I would maintain that belief so long as my lips retained their
power of speech.
Tears glistened in his eyes as he uttered a heartfelt "Thank you!" and
spoke of the comfort the recollection of this meeting would be to him
during the remaining years of his life.
Before our departure, Mr. McGlashan asked Keseberg to step aside and
show my husband the scars left by the wound which had prevented his
going to the settlement with the earlier refugees. There was a mark of
a fearful gash which had almost severed the heel from the foot and left
a troublesome deformity. One could easily realize how slow and tedious
its healing must have been, and Keseberg assured us that walking caused
excruciating pain even at the time the Third Relief Corps left camp.
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