“Is all hope over?  Did they tell you there is no chance for me?”

The voice was hoarse and thick, the articulation indistinct and smothered.

“No.  They think you very ill, but still hope the remedies will save you.  The doctor says your fine constitution ought to conquer the disease.”

“I am beyond the remedy—­because I can’t swallow any longer.  Since the doctor left me, I have tried and tried.  See—­”

From a bench within reach, she lifted a small yellow bowl, which contained a dark mixture, put it to her lips, and chafing her swollen glands, attempted several times to swallow the liquid.  A gurgling sound betrayed the futility of the effort, the medicine gushed from her nose, the eyes seemed starting from their sockets, and even the husky cry of the sufferer was strangled, as she cowered down.

“Compose yourself; nervousness increases the difficulty.  Once I had diphtheria, and could not swallow for two days, yet I recovered.  Be quiet, and let me try to help you.”

Kneeling in front of her, Beryl turned up the wick of the lantern, and with a small brush attached to a silver wire, finally succeeded in cauterizing and removing a portion of the poisonous growth that was rapidly narrowing the avenue of breath.  The spasm of coughing that ensued was Nature’s auxiliary effort, and temporarily relieved the tightening clutch.

After a few moments, a dose of the medicine was successfully administered; and then the slender, shapely brown hand of the woman grasped the nurse’s blue homespun dress.

“Don’t leave me!  Save me.  Oh, don’t let me strangle here alone—­in the dark; don’t let me die!  I’m not fit.  I know where I shall go.  It’s not the devil I dread; I have known many devils in this world,- -but God.  I am afraid of God!”

“Lie down, and cover your shoulders.  If it comforts you to have me, I will stay gladly.  The doctor, the warden, all of us will do what we can to cure you; but the help you need most, can come only from one whose pity is greater and tenderer than ours, your merciful God.  Lift up your heart in prayer to him; ask him to forgive your sins, and spare you to lead a better life.”

“He would not hear, because He knows how black my heart has been all these years; since I gave myself up to hate and cursing.  You can’t understand—­you are not one of us.  You are as much out of place here, as one of the angels would be, held over the flames of torment till the wings singed.  From the first time we saw you in the chapel, and more and more ever since, we found out you did not belong here.  I have been so wicked—­so wicked—!”

She paused, panting, then hurried on.