"The journey of life is near its close. The holy hill is in sight. I pass
through the vale of death on my way to the better land. Yonder is the
home of the faithful. Sorrow and mourning shall flee away."

"He is here! He is here!" cried Jupheena.

"Has he arrived?" asked the sick man, in faint accents.

"Yea, father," replied Mathias, in soothing tones, "he has arrived."

"Thanks be to Jehovah!"

Presently, a man of venerable appearance, his hair silvered over with
age, apparently a Chaldean, walked into the apartment. Jupheena was the
first to greet him.

"Jehovah bless my lovely daughter!" whispered the aged man, as the tears
coursed down his furrowed cheeks. For a moment he looked around upon the
company with an earnestness of affection not easily described; then
looking up to heaven, in trembling accents he broke forth:

"Oh, Jehovah, let the smiles of Thy countenance rest on these Thy chosen
ones!"

The venerable man was then gently led by Mathias to the bedside.

A smile passed over the pale countenance of Joram, the fountain of his
tears overflowed; he looked up to the face of his old friend, reached out
his trembling hand, and cried: