“Oh!” moaned Nehushta, “why do you speak thus?”

“Because I am dying.  Gainsay me not.  I know it well.  My life ebbs from me.  My prayers have been answered, and I was preserved to give this infant birth; now I go to my appointed place and to one who waits for me, and to the Lord in Whose care he is in Heaven, as we are in His care on earth.  Nay, do not mourn; it is no fault of yours, nor could any physician’s skill have saved me, whose strength was spent in suffering, and who for many months have walked the world, bearing in my breast a broken heart.  Give me of that wine to drink—­and listen.”

Nehushta obeyed and Rachel went on:  “So soon as my breath has left me, take the babe and seek some village on the shore where it can be nursed, for which service you have the means to pay.  Then when she is strong enough and it is convenient, travel, not to Tyre—­for there my father would bring up the child in the strictest rites and customs of the Jews—­but to the village of the Essenes upon the shores of the Dead sea.  There find out my mother’s brother, Ithiel, who is of their society, and present to him the tokens of my name and birth which still hang about my neck, and tell him all the story, keeping nothing back.  He is not a Christian, but he is a good and gentle-hearted man who thinks well of Christians, and is grieved at their persecution, since he wrote to my father reproving him for his deeds towards us and, as you know, strove, but in vain, to bring about our release from prison.  Say to him that I, his kinswoman, pray of him, as he will answer to God, and in the name of the sister whom he loved, to protect my child and you; to do nothing to turn her from her faith, and in all things to deal with her as his wisdom shall direct—­for so shall peace and blessing come upon him.”

Thus spoke Rachel, but in short and broken words.  Then she began to pray, and, praying, fell asleep.  When she woke again the dawn was breaking.  Signing to Nehushta to bring her the child, for now she could no longer speak, she scanned it earnestly in the new-born light, then placed her hand upon its head and blessed it.  Nehushta she blessed also, thanking her with her eyes and kissing her.  Then again she seemed to fall asleep, and presently, when Nehushta looked at her, Rachel was dead.

Nehushta understood and gave a great and bitter cry, since to her after the death of her first mistress, this woman had been all her life.  As a child she had nursed her; as a maiden shared her joys and sorrows; as a wife and widow toiled day and night fiercely and faithfully to console her in her desolation and to protect her in the dreadful dangers through which she had passed.  Now, to end it all, it was her lot to receive her last breath and to take into her arms her new-born infant.