"My son, my son, my first-born son!" sobbed Mrs. Keith, "gone, gone in that dreadful way! Yet, thank God that dear Don is left. And blessed be His holy name that He lives and reigns, and none can stay His hand or say unto Him, What doest thou?"
"Read, some one," groaned the father; "I cannot!"
Zillah silently handed the letter to the doctor, and he read it in low, moved tones, often interrupted by the bitter weeping of his listeners.
Rupert's death was a heavy blow; for a time his parents seemed wellnigh crushed by it, yet not a murmur was ever heard from either; the language of their lips and lives was, "'Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him.'"
The manner of their son's death made it the hardest blow they had ever received; yet as the months rolled on they learned to speak calmly and tenderly of him as having gone before to the heavenly home whither they themselves would soon follow.
Don's letter received a reply in due season. It said his speedy return would be joyfully welcomed, yet as he was now on the ground, he was free to stay for a time if such were his choice; so he remained, fascinated by the hope of success in his search for gold, and feeling a great repugnance to going back and facing his townsmen without having secured at least a moderate portion of that which he had come so far to find.
