gloom, only betrayed by the sound.  There was a long pause, and the watcher held fast the little Pilgrim’s hand, and betrayed to her the longing in her heart; for though she was already blessed beyond all blessedness known on earth, yet had she not forgotten the love that had begun on earth, but was forevermore.  She murmured to herself and said, ’If it is not he, it is a brother; and the more that come, the more sure it is that he will come.  Little sister, is there one for whom you watch?’

‘There is no one,’ the Pilgrim said,—­’but all.’

‘And so care I for all,’ cried the watcher; and she drew her companion with her to the edge of the abyss, and they sat down upon it low among the rocks to escape the rushing of the wind.  And they sang together a soft song; ‘For if he should hear us,’ she said, ’it may give him courage.’  And there they sat and sang; and the white of their garments and of their heavenly faces showed like a light in the deep gloom, so that he who was toiling upwards might see that speck above him, and be encouraged to continue upon his way.

Sometimes he fell, and they could hear the moan he made,—­for every sound came upwards, however small and faint it might be,—­and sometimes dragged himself along, so that they heard his movement up some shelf of rock.  And as the Pilgrim looked, she saw other and other dim whitenesses along the ravines of the dark mountains, and knew that she was not the only one, but that many had come to watch and look for the coming of those who had been lost.

Time was as nothing to these heavenly watchers; but they knew how long and terrible were the moments to those upon the way.  Sometimes there would be silence like the silence of long years; and fear came upon them that the wayfarer had turned back, or that he had fallen, and lay suffering at the bottom of some gulf, or had been swept by the wind upon some icy peak and dashed against the rocks.  Then anon, while they listened and held their breath, a little sound would strike again into the silence; bringing back hope; and again and again all would be still.  The little Pilgrim held her companion’s hand; and the thought went through her mind that were she watching for one whom she loved above the rest, her heart would fail.  But the watcher answered her as if she had spoken, and said, ’Oh, no, oh, no; for if it is not he, it is a brother; and the Lord give them joy!’ But they sang no more, their hearts being faint with suspense and with eagerness to hear every sound.

Then in the great chill of the silence, suddenly, and not far off, came the sound of one who spoke.  He murmured to himself and said, ’Who can continue on this terrible way?  The night is black like hell, and there comes no morning.  It was better in the land of darkness, for still we could see the face of man, though not God.’  The muffled voice shook at that word, and then was still suddenly, as though it had been a flame and the wind had blown it out.  And for a moment there was silence; until suddenly it broke forth once more,—­