The Lincoln Myth Read Online Free

have placed themselves in the middle of our path. Break him.”
    He always accepted the angel’s advice. How could he not? He came directly from Heavenly Father. This prisoner, though, was a spy. Sent by the enemy.
    “We have always dealt with spies harshly,” the angel said. “In the beginning there were many and they inflicted great harm. We must return that harm.”
    “But am I not to love him?” he asked the apparition. “He is still a son of God.”
    “Who are you … talking … to?”
    He faced the prisoner and asked what he wanted to know, “Who do you work for?”
    No reply.
    “Tell me.”
    He heard his voice rise. Unusual for him. He was known to be soft-spoken, always projecting a placid demeanor—which he worked hard to maintain. Decorum was a lost art, his father had many times said.
    The bucket of water lay at his feet.
    He filled a ladle, then tossed its contents through the bars, soaking his prisoner’s bruised face. The man’s tongue tried to savor what little refreshment it could find. But three days of thirst would take time to quench.
    “Tell me what I want to know.”
    “More water.”
    Pity had long abandoned him. He was charged with a sacred duty, and the fate of millions depended on the decisions he would make.
    “There must be a blood atonement,” the angel said. “It is the only way.”
    Doctrine proclaimed that there were sins for which men could not receive forgiveness in this world, or in the world to come. But if they had their eyes opened, made able to see their true condition, surely they would be willing to have their blood spilled in forgiveness of those sins.
    “The blood of the son of God was shed for sins committed by men,” the angel said. “And there remain sins that can be atoned for by an offering upon an altar, as in ancient days. But there are also sins that the blood of a lamb or a calf or a turtledove cannot remit. These must be atoned for by the blood of the man.”
    Sins such as murder, adultery, lying, covenant breaking, and apostasy.
    He crouched down and stared at the defiant soul on the other side of the bars. “You cannot stop me. No one can. What will happen is going to happen. But I am prepared to show you some consideration. Simply tell me who you work for and your mission, and this water is yours.”
    He gathered up another full ladle and held it out.
    The man lay flat on his stomach, arms extended, wet face to the floor. Slowly, he rolled over onto his spine, eyes to the ceiling.
    He and the angel waited.
    “I’m an agent … for the … Justice Department. We’re all … over you.”
    The U.S. government. For 180 years it had been nothing but an impediment.
    But how much did his enemies know?
    The man rolled his head toward him, tired eyes focused tight. “Killing me will accomplish … nothing, except bring you … more trouble.”
    “He lies,” the angel said. “He thinks we can be frightened.”
    True to his word he slipped the ladle through the bars. The man grabbed the offering and tossed the water into his mouth. He slidthe bucket closer, and the man shoveled more liquid down his dry throat.
    “Do not waver,” the angel said. “He has committed a sin that he knows will deprive him of that exaltation he desires. He cannot attain it without shedding his blood. By having his blood shed he will atone for that sin and be saved and exalted with God. There is not a man or woman who would not say, ‘Shed my blood that I may be saved and exalted with God.’ ”
    No, there was not.
    “There have been many instances, Josepe, where men have been righteously slain in order to atone for their sins. I have witnessed scores of people for whom there would have been a chance of exaltation if their lives had been taken, their blood spilled as a smoking incense to the Almighty. But they are now angels to the Devil.”
    Unlike this emissary, who spoke the word of God.
    “This is loving our neighbor as ourselves. If he needs help, help him.