"You are some one new. Have you come to save me? Oh, save me! Oh, save
me! Don't let me die!"

This was very strange to the little Pilgrim, and went to her heart. She
soothed the stranger, holding her hands warm and light, and stooping over
her.

"Dear," she said, "you must try and not be afraid."

"You say so," said the woman, "because you are well and strong. You don't
know what it is to be seized in the middle of your life, and told
that you've got to die. Oh, I have been a sinful creature! I am not fit
to die. Can't you give me something that will cure me? What is the good
of doctors and nurses if they cannot save a poor soul that is not fit to
die?"

At this the little Pilgrim smiled upon her, always holding her fast, and
said,--

"Why are you so afraid to die?"

The woman raised her head to see who it was who put such a strange
question to her.

"You are some one new," she said. "I have never seen you before. Is there
any one that is not afraid to die? Would _you_ like to have to give
your account all in a moment, without any time to prepare?"

"But you have had time to prepare," said the Pilgrim.