“‘Thy fears are natural, Rebecca,’ said the husband, turning with momentary hesitation, ‘for verily, hath the cunning enemy been as a snake in the grass to the Lord’s people.’
“‘Look forth from the window, first, then,’ said the wife; ‘hast thou lived so long in the wilderness and not learned that the wicked one is full of snares?’ But a succession of low groans, apparently near the house, overcame his fears; and hastily unfastening and throwing open the narrow door, he said, ‘Farewell, Rebecca—the arm of the Lord is forever with his children!’
“‘Forsake me not, Simon,’ said Mrs. Gray, lifting the little boy to her arms, ‘I will go with thee;’ but he had already passed the threshold and thrown open the gate that led from the little enclosure around their dwelling. He paused; listened again; and passed into the street. The cries were repeated, but not so loud or so frequently as they had been. He paused again and looked around, but still saw nothing but the thick falling snow, which beat so heavily as to obscure almost everything; besides, it was very dark.
“Who was it, grandmother?” whispered Helen, “who was it?”
“Hush, sister!” said Henry, “she was just going to tell.”
“Again,” resumed Mrs. Gray, “again he heard the same low cry; and just as his wife came up, he stumbled upon a human figure crouched at the foot of a very large snow-bank. It proved to be an Indian woman, almost perished with cold and hunger.
“‘The Lord be praised! and bless thee, Simon Gray!’ said Rebecca, as she assisted her husband to lift the poor creature from the earth; ‘the Lord be magnified!’
“‘Leave Namoina, take de baby!’ said the poor creature in broken English, and she pointed to a dark heap at a little distance; but at the instant William had reached the spot, and, as his mother came up, he uncovered the face of a sleeping infant. The little creature was wrapped in a thick covering of blankets, and was sleeping as peacefully amid the snow as if it was lying in its own mother’s bosom.
“Rebecca knelt beside the little one, and blessed God that she had been the instrument of saving its life. The falling snow, and the cold wind blowing upon the child’s face, awoke it; and as it opened its eyes it looked up in the face of Rebecca, who was kneeling beside it with a lantern in her hand, and smiled, and lifted up its little arms.
“‘The Lord has sent thee to me,’ said Mrs. Gray, while her heart was filled with tenderness. ‘The Lord has sent thee to me, to lie in my bosom and be unto me instead of my own little buried Rebecca!’