Eve fell even in Paradise—why not Iola?
With such thoughts for my companions, how heavy was my sorrow, how dull and monotonous my captivity!
At last, even Callum, who could boldly face all those disagreeables which usually rise like dust along the roadway of life, began to sink under the weariness of our existence in this hideous place; and once, to my surprise, I discovered tears hovering in his eyes.
'Co-dhalta,' said I, kindly, placing a hand on his shoulder; 'what are you thinking of?'
'I am thinking, Mac Innon, of that green place where God gives rest to the weary—the old kirkyard at home, where your mother and mine, too, are sleeping under the shadow of the old stone cross; and I was pondering on——'
'What?'
'Our chances of ever being laid beside them.'
'Let us rather think of escape.'
'To work, then,' said Callum, briskly; 'let us not continue to waste what little Father Raoul was wont to term the poor man's best inheritance?'
'What may that be, Callum?'