Ww. V.

Shrill cries of horror maddened round the
bluff:

* Oh, Elohim, ’t is Cain the King, the King!”

And weeping, tearing hair, and wringing
hands,

About him raved his lawless giant brood.

But Cain spoke slowly with a ghastly smile:
“ Peace, and give heed, for now I am but dead.
~Let no man be to blame for this my death;
Yea, swear a solemn oath that none shall
harm
A hair of him who gives me my release.
Come hither, boy!”
And, weeping, Lamech went
And stood before the face of Cain ; and Cain
Who pressed a hand against his rushing
wound
Reddened his grandson’s brow and kissed his
cheek:
_ “The blood of Cain alight on him who lifts
A hand against thy life. My spear, boys! So.
Let no foot follow. Cain must die alone.
Let no man seek me till ye see in heaven
A sign, and know that Cain is dead.”
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