la, my kind, loving, generous mistress," she continued,
after a very long pause, and her voice was so faint as scarcely
to make distinguishable the words, save for the still lingering
sweetness, and clearness of her articulation--"Oh! what can I say to
her? Arthur, dearest Arthur, thou must repay the debt of gratitude
I owe her. Her creed condemns, but her heart loves me--aye, still,
still! And better (though she cannot think so) than had I for earthly
joy turned traitor to my God. Oh, tell her how with my last breath I
loved and blessed her, Arthur; tell her we shall meet again, where
Jew and Gentile worship the same God! Oh that I could but have
proved--proved--How suddenly it has grown dark! Uncle Julien, is it
not time for the evening prayer?"

And her lips moved in the wordless utterance of the prayer for which
she had asked, forgetting it had some time before been said; and then
her head sunk lower and lower on Arthur's bosom, and there was no
sound. Twilight lingered, as loth to disappear, then deepened into
night, and the silver lamps within the tents brighter and more
brightly illumined the gloom; but Arthur moved not, suppressing even
his breath, lest he should disturb that deep and still repose. It was
more than an hour ere Julien Morales could realize the truth, and then
he gently endeavored to unclasp Arthur's almost convulsive hold, and
with, kindly force to lead him from the couch. The light of the lamp
fell full upon that sweet, sweet face; and, oh! never had it seemed so
lovely. The awful stillness of sculptured repose was indeed there; the
breath of life and its disturbing emotions had passed away, and nought
but the shrine remained. But like marble sculptured by God's hand,
that sweet face gleamed--seeming, in its perfect tracery, its heavenly
repose, to whisper even to the waves of agony, "Be still--my spirit is
with God!"

* * * * *

Julien Morales and Arthur Stanley--the aged and the young--the Jewish
recluse and Christian warrior--knelt side by side on the cold earth,
which concealed the remains of one to both so inexpressibly dear. The
moonlit shrubs and spangled heaven alone beheld their mutual sorrow,
and the pale moon waned, and the stars gleamed paler and paler in the
first gray of dawn ere that vigil was concluded. And then both arose
and advanced to the barrier wall; the spring answered to the touch,
and the concealed door flew back. The young Christian tur