“‘Child, I was seeking thee!’ she said, at last, in imperfect English; ‘I have bad news—thy brother is fallen among his enemies!’
“‘Will not my brother come home?’ said the child, bursting into tears; ‘will he never come home? Is he dead?’
“‘He is yet alive,’ replied Rachel, ‘but his hours are counted. This night he is to die!’’
“‘Where is he? Let me go to him!’ said the child.
“‘It was for that very purpose I came to thee. For thy sake he may yet live—he is in the hands of Anawon.’
“‘O, let us go this instant! Let us run! Let us fly!’ said Mary, seizing the hand of Rachel; and she ran forward a few steps—then, stopping short, she said, ‘I must run back and tell mother; I cannot go without telling her!’
“‘Thou must not go back,’ said Rachel; ‘let her not know his danger till it is over—if thy brother lives, we will return with the earliest light; if he dies, it will be soon enough to break her heart—as mine is broken,’ she added, beating her breast, while her eyes shone like fire.
“‘I cannot go,’ sobbed Mary, ‘I cannot go without telling mother.’
“‘Then thy brother will die!’ said Rachel; ‘then he will die—they are singing the death-song! The fire is kindling now!’
“‘O let us go then!’ said the child, with a piercing cry, ‘let us hurry! let us go!’