In unutterable anguish John Grayson turned his face away. "No," he murmured hoarsely, "Shushan is not in Heaven but—in Hell."
Gabriel half raised himself in his intense excitement. "Then you don't know——"
"It is you who don't know," Jack interrupted bitterly. "There is no such blessedness as death for her—or for me."
"Oh, but you don't know," Gabriel said again. "Yon Effendi, listen—you must listen to me. I have comfort for you."
"What comfort possible for me?"
"The comfort of God; our Shushan is with Him."
Jack turned, and looked again in the face of Gabriel. His own was set and drawn in its anguish of suspense. His lips moved, but only one word would come—"Speak."
"As they were killing my grandfather, zaptiehs passed by with Shushan guarded in their midst. She saw his white hair,—his face,—and broke through them all to throw her arms around him and plead for his life. They were taken by surprise, and did not stop her in time. No one knows how it happened, but, in the confusion, a sword meant for him went right through her heart."
John Grayson sprang to his feet, with a cry that made all the wounded round them turn on their mats and look up in wonder. He never even heard Gabriel's concluding word: "So, as I said, they are all now with Christ." But in another moment he was on the ground again beside him, his whole frame shaking with a storm of sobs—hoarse, heavy, uncontrollable,—surging up from the very depths of a strong man's soul. After the sobs came tears—tears again at last! No longer were the heavens iron and the earth brass; all the flood-gates were open now, and there was a very great rain.
He knew nothing until Miss Celandine's firm, gentle hand was laid upon his shoulder.