"No, no, father," said Grace, "not while there is water there, beautiful water."
"But you can not drink that unfiltered; it is foul, it is poisonous."
"Not that, papa," said Grace, "far beyond that—look! See that clear river sparkling in the sunlight; how bright and beautiful it shines! Look at the waving trees upon the other side, the green meadows and the bright blue sky, and there—there—there—are the great white swans. No, no. I forgot, they are not swans, they are ships sailing to the bright land you told me of, where there is no suffering and no sorrow."
Then Hope, to his horror, began to see that this must be the very hallucination of which he had read, a sweet illusion of green fields and crystal water, which often precedes actual death by thirst and starvation. He trembled, he prayed secretly to God to spare her, and not to kill his new-found child, his darling, in his arms.
By-and-by Grace spoke again, but this time her senses were clear; "How dark it's grown!" she said. "Ah, we are back again in that awful mine." Then, with the patient fortitude of a woman when once she thinks the will of the Almighty is declared, she laid her hand upon his shoulder, and she said, soothingly, "Dear father, bow to Heaven's will;" then she held up both her feeble arms to him—"kiss me, father—FOR WE ARE TO DIE!"
With these firm and patient words, she laid her sweet head upon the ground, and hoped and feared no more.
But the man could not bow like the woman. He kissed her as she bade him, and laid her gently down; but after that he sprang wildly to his feet in a frenzy, and raged aloud, as his daughter could no longer hear him. "No, no," he cried, "this thing can not be, they have had seven days to get to us.
"Ah, but there are mountains and rocks of earth and coal piled up between us. We are buried alive in the bowels of the earth.
"Well, and shouldn't I have blasted a hundred rocks, and picked through mountains, to save a hundred lives, or to save one such life as this, no matter whose child she was?
"Ah! you poor scum, you came to me whenever you wanted me, and you never came in vain. But now that I want you, you smoke your pipes, and walk calmly over this living tomb I lie in.