"How I wish he were here!" she whispered piteously into the darkness. "I shouldn't be afraid of dying—if only he were here."
She was certain—quite certain—that had he been there with her, no fear would have reached her. He wore the armour of a strong man, and by it he would have shielded her also.
"Oh, dear Mr. Greatheart," she murmured through her numb lips, "I'm sure you know the way to Heaven."
Isabel stirred again as one who moves in restless slumber. "We must scale the peaks of Paradise to reach it," she said.
"Are you awake, dearest?" asked Dinah very tenderly.
Isabel's head was sunk against her shoulder. She moved it, slightly raised it. "Yes, I am awake," she said. "I am watching for the dawn."
"It won't come yet," whispered Dinah tremulously. "It's a long, long way off."
Isabel moved a little more, feeling for Dinah in the darkness. "Are you frightened, little one?" she said. "Don't be frightened!"
Dinah swallowed down a sob. "It is so dark," she murmured through chattering teeth. "And so, so cold."
"You are cold, dear heart?" Isabel sat up suddenly. "Why should you be cold?" she said. "The darkness is nothing to those who are used to it. I have lived in outer darkness for seven weary years. But now—now I think the day is drawing near at last."