the bowl of cold water stood.

Setchem fought a hard battle. At last once more through her choking
tears she called his name, opened her arms wide and exclaimed:

"Here I am--here I am! Come to my heart, only give up these hideous
thoughts of revenge."

But Paaker did not move, he did not look up at her, he did not speak,
he only shook his head in negation. Setchem's hands fell, and she said
softly:

"What did your father teach you out of the scriptures? 'Your highest
praise consists in this, to reward your mother for what she has done for
you, in bringing you up, so that she may not raise her hands to God, nor
He hear her lamentation.'"

At these words, Paaker sobbed aloud, but he did not look at his mother.
She called him tenderly by his name; then her eyes fell on his quiver,
which lay on a bench with other arms. Her heart shrunk within her, and
with a trembling voice she exclaimed:

"I forbid this mad vengeance--do you hear? Will you give it up? You do
not move? No! you will not! Ye Gods, what can I do?"

She wrung her hands in despair; then she hastily crossed the room,
snatched out one of the arrows, and strove to break it. Paaker sprang
from his seat, and wrenched the weapon from her hand; the sharp point
slightly scratched the skin, and dark drops of blood flowed from it, and
dropped upon the floor.