Harriet Theresa Comstock

“ The master never flinched, but his pale face grew paler. "Is there anything else we can do for you?" asked the milder voice, "something safer than forwarding letters?"
"I should like to have the right generally granted a dying man, of seeing a minister. One lives a few miles above here. I am sure he would come."
"And hear what you dare not write," sneered the torturer. "You are not the sort to need a death-bed scene; besides, there isn't going to be any death-bed. I dare say the parson would be glad enough to carry your so-called confession to Washington. ”

“ Am proud to die and to have given all."
"I have the letters!" breathed Andy. "If I live Washington shall have them and know all."
"Thank God!" came from the man upon the floor. "You are a true friend, Andy McNeal."
"Good-by," groaned Andy. "Some one is coming!" The cold perspiration covered the boy's body, for steps were drawing near.
"There could hardly be any one outside," said a loud, rough voice. "Still we must take no chances. The poor devil has reason to toss in his sleep and talk. ”

“ A peal of thunder was followed quickly by another. The rocks took up the echo and prolonged the sound. Between, the flashes of lightning, the darkness could almost be felt, so tangible and dense it seemed. ”