he others. Fetch him here at once--at once; I command you, Perpetua, do
you hear? Oh best, dearest Betta! Come with me; we will go to him."

"Patience, sweetheart, a little patience!" urged the nurse. "Ah, poor
dear soul, it will turn out to be nothing again; and if we again follow
up a false clue it will only lead to fresh disappointment."

"Never mind: you are to come with me."

"To all the servants round the fire, and at this time of night? I should
think so indeed!--But do you wait here, child. I know how it can be
managed.

"I will wake Hiram's Joseph. He sleeps in the stable yonder--and then
he will fetch his father. Ah! what impatience! What a stormy, passionate
little heart it is! If I do not do your bidding, I shall have you awake
all night, and wandering about to-morrow as if in a dream.--There, be
quiet, be quiet, I am going."

As she spoke she wrapped her kerchief round her head and hurried out;
Paula fell on her knees before the crucifix over the bed, and prayed
fervently till her nurse returned, Soon after she heard a man's steps on
the stairs and Hiram came in.

He was a powerful man of about fifty, with a pair of honest blue eyes in
his plain face. Any one looking at his broad chest would conclude that
when he spoke it would be in a deep bass voice; but Hiram had stammered
from his infancy; and from constant companionship with horses he had
accustomed himself to make a variety of strange, inarticulate noises in
a high, shrill voice. Besides, he was always unwilling to speak. When
he found himself face to face with the daughter of his master and
benefactor, he knelt at her feet, looked up at her with faithful,
dog-like eyes full of affection, and kissed first her dress, and then
her hand which she held out to him. Paula kindly but decidedly cut
short the expressions of delight at seeing her again which he painfully
stammered out; and when he at length began to tell his story his words
came far too slowly for her impatience.

He told her that the Nabathaean who had brought the rumor that had
excited her hopes, was not unwilling to follow up the trace he had
found, but he would not wait beyond noon the next day and had tried to
bid for high terms.

"He shall have them--as much as he wants!" cried Paula. "But Hiram
entreated her, more by looks and vague cries than by articulate words,
not to hope for too much. Dusare the Nabathaean--Perpetua now took up
the tale--had heard of a recluse, living at Ra