The day is coming when ye shall call upon me to witness for ye to
this one sin uncommitted, and I will rise up and answer."

She turned her steps towards the door, and the men, who had
stationed themselves to guard it, withdrew, and suffered her to
pass. A general sentiment of pity overcame the virulence of
religious hatred. Sanctified by her love and her affliction, she
went forth, and all the people gazed after her till she had
journeyed up the hill, and was lost behind its brow. She went,
the apostle of her own unquiet heart, to renew the wanderings of
past years. For her voice had been already heard in many lands of
Christendom; and she had pined in the cells of a Catholic
Inquisition before she felt the lash and lay in the dungeons of
the Puritans. Her mission had extended also to the followers of
the Prophet, and from them she had received the courtesy and
kindness which all the contending sects of our purer religion
united to deny her. Her husband and herself had resided many
months in Turkey, where even the Sultan's countenance was
gracious to them; in that pagan land, too, was Ilbrahim's
birthplace, and his oriental name was a mark of gratitude for the
good deeds of an unbeliever.

. . . . . . . . .

When Pearson and his wife had thus acquired all the rights over
Ilbrahim that could be delegated, their affection for him became
like the memory of their native land, or their mild sorrow for
the dead, a piece of the immovable furniture of their hearts. The
boy, also, after a week or two of mental disquiet, began to
gratify his protectors by many inadvertent proofs that he