thine own no more."

But the unhappy mother was not thus to be consoled. She shook like a
leaf; she turned white as the very snow that hung drifted into her
hair. The firm old man extended his hand and held her up, keeping his
eye upon hers as if to repress any outbreak of passion.

"I am a woman--I am but a woman; will He try me above my strength?"
said Catharine, very quickly and almost in a whisper. "I have been
wounded sore; I have suffered much--many things in the body, many in
the mind; crucified in myself and in them that were dearest to me.
Surely," added she, with a long shudder, "he hath spared me in this
one thing." She broke forth with sudden and irrepressible violence:
"Tell me, man of cold heart, what has God done to me? Hath he cast
me down never to rise again? Hath he crushed my very heart in his
hand?--And thou to whom I committed my child, how hast thou fulfilled
thy trust? Give me back the boy well, sound, alive--alive--or earth
and heaven shall avenge me!"

The agonized shriek of Catharine was answered by the faint--the very
faint--voice of a child.

On this day it had become evident to Pearson, to his aged guest and to
Dorothy that Ilbrahim's brief and troubled pilgrimage drew near its
close. The two former would willingly have remained by him to make use
of the prayers and pious discourses which they deemed appropriate to
the time, and which, if they be impotent as to the departing
traveller's reception in the world whither he goes, may at least
sustain him in bidding adieu to earth. But, though Ilbrahim uttered no
complaint, he was disturbed by the faces that looked upon him; so that