I was rejoiced to hear this proof of the steady desire of the princely Roman knight to learn our sacred laws, you may be assured, dearest father. But Elec went on speaking and said:
"It was his hard work to complete this copy which made him ill; for he slept not, nor ceased to toil until he had completed it, and when he came home with the silver-bound roll in his hand, and laid it upon the table before his sisters, he fell at the same moment fainting to the ground."
"Alas, poor Lazarus!" we both exclaimed, and urged our mules forward at a faster pace, our hearts bleeding for the sorrow of his sisters and for his sad condition.
At length, half an hour after leaving the gate of the city, we drew near to Bethany, and beheld the roof of the house of Lazarus. Upon it, watching the road towards Jerusalem for us, we discovered the graceful form of Mary. In a few moments we were in her arms, mingling our tears together.
"Does he yet live?" I asked, scarcely daring to inquire, as she led us into the house.
"Yes, lives, but fails hourly," answered Mary, with forced composure. "God bless you both for hastening to me."
At this moment Martha's pale and suffering face, beautiful even in its pallor, appeared in the door of the inner room. Upon seeing us she advanced, and taking both our hands in hers, said in a touching whisper, "You have come, sweet friends, to see my brother die!"
She then led us into the room, where lay upon a couch the form of the invalid.
"He has slept a little," said Martha softly to me, "but his fever is consuming him. He has now closed his eyes again and seems heavy, but his slumbers are restless, as you see, and he seems to think his dear friend, Jesus the Prophet, is by him; or he talks of Rachel as if she were not present."
"And who is Rachel, dear Martha?" I asked, as I was about to follow her out of the room, leaving her brother to his weary repose.