scorpions!"

Ruth recovered herself quickly. "Bring her to me again!" she faltered;
and once more Fatimah brought Naomi back to the bedside. Then, embracing
and kissing the child, and seeming to forget in the torment of her
trouble that Naomi could not hear her, she cried, "It's your mother,
Naomi! your mother, darling, though so sick and changed! Don't you know
her, Naomi? Your mother, your own mother, sweet one, your dear mother
who loves you so, and must leave you now and see you no more!"

Now what it was in that wild plea that touched the consciousness of the
child at last, only God Himself can say. But first Naomi's cheeks grew
pale at the embrace of the arms that held her, and then they reddened,
and then her little nervous fingers grasped at Ruth's hands again, and
then her little lips trembled, and then, at length, she flung herself
along Ruth's bosom and nestled close in her embrace.

Ruth fell back on her pillow now with a cry of Joy; the black woman
stood and wept by the wall and Israel, unable to bear up his heart any
longer was melted and unmanned. The sun had gone down, and the room was
darkening rapidly, for the twilight in that land is short; the streets
were quiet, and the mooddin of the neighbouring minaret was chanting in
the silence, "God is great, God is great!"

After awhile the little one fell asleep at her mother's bosom, and,
seeing this, Fatimah would have lifted her away and carried her back
to her own bed; but Ruth said, "No; leave her, let me have her with me
while I may."

"No one shall take her from you," said Israel.