With the nervous excitement of
his mind, and his whole nature keenly interested in the deed, to break
suddenly the awful silence, the brooding hush of the forest, with
unexpected sounds, and those so near, and so startling--for once the
outlaw ceased to be the master of his own powers!
The noise of the bird scared the steed. He dashed headlong forward, and
saved the life of his rider!
Yet Ralph Colleton never dreamed of his danger--never once conjectured
how special was his obligations to the interposing hand of Providence!
And so, daily, with the best of us--and the least fortunate. How few of
us ever dream of the narrow escapes we make, at moments when a breath
might kill us, when the pressure of a "bare bodkin" is all that is
necessary to send us to sudden judgment!
And the outlaw was again defeated. He had not, perhaps, been scared. He
had only been surprised--been confounded. In the first cry of the bird,
the first rush of his wings, flapping through the trees, it seemed as if
they had swept across his eyes.
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