The room in which she found herself was small and stuffy. It was lighted only by the little lamp the woman carried. Barakah was glad to loose her veil awhile. She refused the food, but drank the water, which the women offered, and listened to their cordial blessings with a sense of dreaming. Her prayer was that the boy might not decide to wait till morning. Desire to reach the tomb at once absorbed her life. Deprived of it, she would have had no further being. Her prayer now took the Christian form, and now the Muslim; the two religions growing tangled in her tired mind. At length the boy’s voice sounded:

“Deign to come, O lady. The ways are thronged, they tell me, as in Ragab. Tonight is not as other nights, it is well seen.”

With praise to Allah she went out once more. But with its object now assured, her mind grew dull. It was as if suspense alone had held it wakeful. It lost the comprehension of its purpose, regained it with an effort, and then let it go.