"Poor Mr. Stuart!" cried Sadie, as the monotonous droning voice of the
delirious man came again to their ears. "Come, auntie, and see if we
cannot do something to relieve him."

"I'm uneasy about Mrs. Shlesinger and the child," said Colonel Cochrane.
"I can see your wife, Belmont, but I can see no one else."

"They are bringing her over," cried he. "Thank God! We shall hear all
about it. They haven't hurt you, Norah, have they?" He ran forward to
grasp and kiss the hand which his wife held down to him as he helped her
from the camel.

The kind grey eyes and calm sweet face of the Irishwoman brought comfort
and hope to the whole party. She was a devout Roman Catholic, and it is
a creed which forms an excellent prop in hours of danger. To her, to
the Anglican Colonel, to the Nonconformist minister, to the Presbyterian
American, even to the two Pagan black riflemen, religion in its various
forms was fulfilling the same beneficent office--whispering always that
the worst which the world can do is a small thing, and that, however
harsh the ways of Providence may seem, it is, on the whole, the wisest
and best thing for us that we should go cheerfully whither the Great
Hand guides us. They had not a dogma in common, these fellows in
misfortune; but they held the intimate, deep-lying spirit, the calm,
essential fatalism which is the world-old framework of religion, with
fresh crops of dogmas growing like ephemeral lichens upon its granite
surface.

"You poor things!" she said. "I can see that you have had a much worse
time than I have. No, really, John, dear, I am quite well--not even