The two brothers, however, were by no means sure that Malus would give over his effort. It was not his way. He made it a point to carry his point on all occasions. To be sure, the case as Aleph had presented it seemed wholly true and reasonable; it even seemed unsafe to Malus personally to proceed; but then he was a man of many resources, had grown venturesome by the habit of success. So they were afraid that it was only a brief respite that had been obtained.
Aleph was inclined to the same view. He had little doubt but that Malus would recognize his antagonist, and would find in the fact additional motive to persevere. So he expressed his regret that it was not possible to remove Miriam at once to some other house.
This brought back Rachel from her abstraction. She went at once to the bedside of Miriam, who clasped her hands and looked up piteously into the loving eyes that beamed inquiringly upon her.
“Do you think that you could bear to be carried home now?” they asked.
“Right away! right away!” broke out the poor woman with unexpected strength of voice. “It is better to die on the way than to stay here. I should die of fear. Let him not leave me”—and she turned her eyes beseechingly toward Aleph.
He approached, took her hand gently, and said a few soothing words while he watched her. She grew quiet and peaceful as her eyes rested on his face.
“It seems to me,” he at length said, “that she can better go than stay. She can summon resolution for the one, but not for the other. The effort may even reinforce her vitality.”
“Then let it be done,” said Rachel. “My sedan is large, and I can take her in my arms, and ease all the motions, and the bearers will move very carefully. Shall we do it?”—she bent to the ear of the sick woman.
Miriam looked at her gratefully, and said with some hesitation:
“If he will go.”