a long breath, and buried
her face in her hands.

After a time my recollection returned, and all came back to me. I rose
to a sitting posture.

"Do not rise yet," said Almah, anxiously; "you are weak."

"No," said I; "I am as strong as ever; but I'm afraid that you are
weaker."

Almah shuddered.

"If you had told me exactly what it was, I would not have gone."

"I could not tell you," said she. "It is too terrible to name. Even
the thought is intolerable. I told you not to go. Why did you go?"

She spoke in accents of tender reproach, and there were tears in her
eyes.

"I did not think of anything so hideous as that," said I. "I thought
that there might be a sacrifice, but nothing worse."

I now learned that when I fainted I had been raised most tenderly,
and the Kohen himself came with me as I was carried back, and he
thought that Almah would be my most agreeable nurse. The Kohen was
most kind and sympathetic, and all the people vied with one another
in their efforts to assist me--so much so that there was the greatest
confusion. It was only by Almah's express entreaty that they retired
and left me with her.

Here was a new phase in the character of this mysterious people.
Could I ever hope to understand them? Where other people are cruel to
strangers, or at best indifferent, these are eager in their acts of
kindness; they exhibit the most unbounded hospitality, the most lavish
generosity, the most self-denying care and attention; where others
would be offended at the intrusion of a stranger, and enraged at
his unconquerable disgust, these people had no feeling save pity,
sympathy, and a desire to alleviate his distress. And yet--oh, and
yet!--oh, thought of horror!--what was this that I had seen? The
abhorrent savages in the outer wilderness were surely of the same race
as these. They too received us kindly, they too lavished upon us their
hospitality, and yet there followed the horror of that frightful
repast. Here there had been kindness and generosity and affectionate
attention, to be succeeded by deeds without a name. Ah me! what an
hour that was! And yet it was as nothing compared to what lay before
me in the future.

But the subject was one of which I dared not speak--one from which I
had to force my thoughts away. I took the violin and played "Lochaber"
till Almah wept, and I had to put it away. Then I begged her to play
or sing. She brought an instrument like a lute, and upon this she
played so