return where she had been.  She went up to them very closely, for she was curious to see the place through which she had come in her sleep, as a traveller goes back to see the city gate, with its bridge and portcullis, through which he has passed by night.  The gate was very great, of a wonderful, curious architecture, and strange, delicate arches and canopies above.  Some parts of them seemed cut very clean and clear; but the outlines were all softened with a sort of mist and shadow, so that it looked greater and higher than it was.  The lower part was not one great doorway as the Pilgrim had supposed, but innumerable doors, all separate, and very narrow, so that but one could pass at a time, though the arch enclosed all, and seemed filled with great folding gates in which the smaller doors were set, so that if need arose a vast opening might be made for many to enter.  Of the little doors many were shut as the Pilgrim approached; but from moment to moment, one after another would be pushed softly open from without, and some one would come in.  The little Pilgrim looked at it all with great interest, wondering which of the doors she had herself come by; but while she stood absorbed by this, a door was suddenly pushed open close by her, and some one flung forward into the blessed country, falling upon the ground, and stretched out wild arms as though to clutch the very soil.  This sight gave the Pilgrim a great surprise, for it was the first time she had heard any sound of pain, or seen any sight of trouble, since she entered here.  In that moment she knew what it was that the dear Lord had given her to do.  She had no need to pause to think, for her heart told her; and she did not hesitate as she might have done in the other life, not knowing what to say.  She went forward, and gathered this poor creature into her arms, as if it had been a child, and drew her quite within the land of peace—­for she had fallen across the threshold, so as to hinder any one entering who might be coming after her.  It was a woman, and she had flung herself upon her face, so that it was difficult for the little Pilgrim to see what manner of person it was, for though she felt herself strong enough to take up this new-comer in her arms and carry her away, yet she forbore, seeing the will of the stranger was not so.  For some time the woman lay moaning, with now and then a great sob shaking her as she lay.  The little Pilgrim had taken her by both her arms, and drawn her head to rest upon her own lap, and was still holding the hands, which the poor creature had thrown out as if to clutch the ground.  Thus she lay for a little while, as the little Pilgrim remembered she herself had lain, not wishing to move, wondering what had happened to her; and then she clutched the hands which grasped her, and said, muttering—­

“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.