so many that questioned her, there suddenly came about her many others
from the brightness out of which she had come, who, one going to one
hand, and one to another, safely led them into the ways in which their
course lay: so that the Pilgrim was free to lead forth the woman who
had been given her in charge, and whose path lay in a dim, but pleasant
country, outside of that light and gladness in which the Pilgrim's home
was.

"But," she said, "you are not to fear or be cast down, because He goes
likewise by these ways, and there is not a corner in all this land but
He is to be seen passing by; and He will come and speak to you, and lay
His hand upon you; and afterwards everything will be clear, and you will
know what you are to do."

"Stay with me till He comes--oh, stay with me," the woman cried,
clinging to her arm.

"Unless another is sent," the little Pilgrim said. And it was nothing to
her that the air was less bright there, for her mind was full of light,
so that, though her heart still fluttered a little with all that had
passed, she had no longing to return, nor to shorten the way, but went
by the lower road sweetly, with the stranger hanging upon her, who was
stronger and taller than she. Thus they went on, and the Pilgrim told
her all she knew, and everything that came into her heart. And so full
was she of the great things she had to say, that it was a surprise to
her, and left her trembling, when suddenly the woman took away her
clinging hand, and flew forward with arms outspread and a cry of joy.
The little Pilgrim stood still to see, and on the path before them was a
child, coming towards them singing, with a look such as is never seen
but upon the faces of children who have come here early, and who behold