ted love, and a mother's
yearning will do the work. I was with her now with my cruse--all alone
with her; for no one dare approach. She knows she's dying. She asked for
the children--

"'Will you not let me see my boys?'

"I shook my head.

"'And will Fletcher not see me before I die, to receive my last kiss?'

"I shook my head.

"'And Aditi, who will return to my father's palace, is she to be kept
from me to the end?'

"I shook my head."

"And will no one watch?" said Aminadab.

"Yes, I will watch all night; but it will be unknown to Fletcher. No one
can speak to him now. He goes hither and thither. He has no rest yet;
the gloom is deeper than ever."

"Horrible mystery!" again ejaculated Aminadab. "But 'the wicked shall
perish; they shall consume into smoke, they shall consume away.'"

Occasions make heroes of very ordinary men; and Aminadab felt that he
could be one of these worthies that night. He soon left after these
words of Janet; but he was now more upon his guard against watchers.
Perhaps Janet had mentioned them to induce him to avoid too minute an
examination where there was danger of another kind; and this rather
encouraged him. The only fault of his heroism was the strange feelings
which arose in his mind when he thought of the Indian spirit. Somehow
this vision could not be got rid of, or analyzed by the small philosophy
he had. As for Fletcher, he viewed him merely as a human monster,--no
uncommon phenomenon at a time when, although there might not be any
greater evil than now, men were more reckless of consequences, more dead
to shame, less under the control of public opinion, probably not less
under the fear of God. He cleared the wicket. It was again a bright
moonlight night. He passed again the Cradle, and was bold enough to
listen again. Alas! the wail was weaker, the bright lamp of these eyes
was fast losing its oil. So he thought; for he could hear only now and
then a very inaudible sob, and occasionally a very weak wail, shrill and
yet low. He could not stay, for Janet would be coming stealthily with
her cruse,--yes, her cruse; for, so far as he could see by the narrow
slips, all was darkness around the dying stranger, in a proud land of
liberty and humanity--the proudest seen on the face of the earth, or
perhaps ever will be seen; yet by-and-by to have more reason to be
proud--by-and-by, when Kalee would be asleep in the bosom of Brahma, her
body only the monument of the shams of tha