isle, stumbled on the rim of a shallow circular depression.

At first, he could not believe the discovery; but next instant--as at
the temple pond, though now without need of placard or interpreter--he
understood. This bowl, a tiny crater among the weeds, showed like some
paltry valley of Ezekiel, a charnel place of Herod's innocents, the
battlefield of some babes' crusade. A chill struck him, not from the
water or the early mists. In stupor, he viewed that savage fact.

Through the stillness of death sounded again the note of living
discontent. He was aware also of some stir, even before he spied, under
a withered clump, the saffron body of an infant girl, feebly squirming.
By a loathsome irony, there lay beside her an earthen bowl of rice, as
an earnest or symbol of regret.

Blind pity urged him into the atrocious hollow. Seeing no further than
the present rescue, he caught up the small unclean sufferer, who moaned
the louder as he carried her down the bank, and waded out through the
sludge. To hold the squalling mouth above water, and swim, was no simple
feat; yet at last he came floundering among the tussocks, wrapped the
naked body in his jacket, and with infinite pains tugged his terrified
pony along a tortuous bar to the land.

Once in the river-path, he stood gloomily, and let Mrs. Forrester canter
up to join him. Indeed, he had almost forgotten her.

"Splendid!" she laughed. "What a figure of fun! But what can you have
brought back? Oh, please! I can't wait!"

He turned on her a muddy, haggard face, without enthusiasm, and gently