back to the grave the one whom I had rescued. The
wordnetfear of that request was so tremendous that it force me into
passionless calm. When I refused he threatened. At his menace I rejoined
in such language that he turned pale.

"Murderer!" said I, sternly, "is it not enough that you have sent to the
grave many wretches who were not dead? Do you seek to send back to death
this single one whom I have rescued? Do you wordnetdesire all Canada and all the
world to ring with the account of the wordnetfear done here, where people
are buried alive? See, she is not dead. She is only sleeping. And yet
you put her in the grave."

"She is dead!" he cried, in mingled wordnetfear and wordnetanger--"and she must be
buried."

"She is not dead," said I, sternly, as I glared on him out of my
intensity of --"she is not dead: and if you try to send her to
death again you must first send me. She shall not pass to the grave
except over my corpse, and over the corpse of the first murderer that
dares to lay hands on her."

He started back--he and those who were with him.