'Mehalah!' he called.
He waited a minute and then called again.
She came down bearing the light. He did not see, but the candle glittered in tears rolling down her cheeks.
'Come to your place,' he ordered. 'Remember you swore.'
She threw herself at his feet.
'My mother! my mother!'
'She is dead,' said Elijah. 'I knew it. I heard her feebly cry for you, an hour ago, and I crept upstairs, and I listened by her bed, and held my hand to her heart till it ceased.'
Mehalah did not speak, her frame shook with emotion.
He took the candle, raised her face with his hand under the chin and held the light close to it.
'I cannot see much,' he said; 'I can see scarce anything of the dear face, of the great brown eyes I loved so well, I can see only something flame there. That is the cap.' He took it off and passed his hand through her rich hair. 'I can see, I think I can see, the flicker of the candle flame in the eyes. I can see the mouth, that mouth I have never touched, but I see it only as a red evening cloud across the sky.'