Then she turned round, and beat herself with angry blows (to
speak in images), for ever doubting her lover. Oh! if she were but
with him! Oh! if she might but be with him! He would not let her
die; but would hide her in his bosom from the wrath of this people,
and carry her back to the old home at Barford. And he might even
now be sailing on the wide blue sea, coming nearer, nearer every
moment, and yet be too late after all.
So the thoughts chased each other through her head all that
feverish night, till she clung almost deliriously to life, and
wildly prayed that she might not die; at least, not just yet, and
she so young!
Pastor Tappau and certain elders roused her up from a heavy
sleep, late on the morning of the following day. All night long she
had trembled and cried, ti
