"William! here is my life!" And he pointed to Susan. "Let no man rob
me of it if one mother really bore us."

It went through William's heart like a burning arrow. And this was why
George had taken him to their mother's grave. That flashed across him,
too.

The poor sulky fellow's head was seen to rise inch by inch till he
held it as erect as a king's.

"Never!" he cried, half shouting, half weeping. "Never, s'help me God!
She's my sister from this hour--no more, no less. And may the red
blight fall on my arm and my heart, if I or any man takes her from
you--any man!" he cried, his temples flushing and his eye glittering;
"sooner than a hundred men should take her from you while I am here
I'd die at their feet a hundred times."

Well done, sullen and rugged but honest man; the capital temptation of
your life is wrestled with and thrown. That is always to every man a
close, a deadly, a bitter struggle; and we must all wade through this
deep water at one hour or another of our lives. It is as surely our
fate as it is one day to die.

It is a noble sight to see an honest man "cleave his own heart in
twain, and fling away the baser part of it." These words, that burst
from William's better heart, knocked at his brother's you may be sure.
He came to William, "I believe you," said he; "I trust you, I thank
you." Then he held out his hand; but nature would have more than that,
in a moment his arm was round his brother's neck, where it had not
been, this many a year. He withdrew it as quickly, half ashamed; and