hed into his eyes, and he left the children and returned to
his wife's chamber.

"Ruth," he cried, "call the child to you, I beseech you!"

"No, no, no!" cried Ruth.

"Let her come to you and touch you and kiss you, and be with you before
it is too late," said Israel. "She misses you, and fills the house with
flowers for you. It breaks my heart to see her."

"It will break mine also," said Ruth.

But she consented that Naomi should be called, and Fatimah was sent to
fetch her.

The sun was setting, and through the window which looked out to the
west, over the river and the orange orchards and the palpitating plains
beyond, its dying rays came into the room in a bar of golden light. It
fell at that instant on Ruth's face, and she was white and wasted. And
through the other window of the room, which looked out over the Mellah
into the town, and across the market-place to the mosque and to the
battery on the hill, there came up from the darkening streets below the
shuffle of the feet of a crowd and the sound of many voices. The Jews
of Tetuan were trooping back to their own little quarter, that their
Moorish masters might lock them into it for the night.

Naomi was already in bed, and Fatimah brought her away in her
nightdress. She seemed to know where she was to be taken, for she
laughed as Fatimah held her by the hand, and danced as she was led to
her mother's chamber. But when she was come to the door of it, suddenly
her laughter ceased, and her little face sobered, as if something in the
close abode of pain had troubled the senses that were left to her.

It is, perhaps, the most touching experience of the deaf and blind that
no greeting can ever welcome them. When Naomi stood like a little white
vision at the threshold of the room, Israel took her hand in silence,
and drew her up to the pillow of the bed where her mother rested, and in
silence Ruth brought the child to her bosom.

For a moment Naomi seemed to be perplexed. She touched her mother's
fingers, and they were changed, for they had grown thin and long. Then
she felt her face, and that was changed also, for it was become withered
and cold. And, missing the grasp of one and the smile of the other, she
first turned her little head aside as one that listens closely, and then
gently withdrew herself from the arms that held her.

Ruth had watched her with eyes that overflowed, and now she burst into
sobs outright.

"The child does not know me!" she cri