sides it was the only being
that, in spite of her helplessness, she could cherish and be dear to.
But ere long she lost the power even to speak caressing words or to stir
a hand to stroke the dog. It slipped off her lap and limped away, while
she sat staring blankly before her, and at last forgot her sufferings
in an uneasy slumber, till she was roused by Iambe's barking and the
Alexandrian's footstep. Almost half-dead, her mouth parched and brain
on fire, while her thoughts whirled in confusion, she believed that
Phoebicius had found her track, and was come to seize her. She had
already noted the deep precipice to the edge of which she now fled,
fully resolved to fling herself over into the depths below, rather than
to surrender herself prisoner.

Paulus had rescued her from the fall, but now--as he came up to her with
two pieces of stone which were slightly hollowed, so that he had been
able to bring some fresh water in them, and which he held level with
great difficulty, walking with the greatest care--he thought that
inexorable death had only too soon returned to claim the victim he had
snatched from him, for Sirona's head hung down upon her breast, her
face was sunk towards her lap, and at the back of her head, where her
abundant hair parted into two flowing tresses, Paulus observed on the
snowy neck of the insensible woman a red spot which the sun must have
burnt there.

His whole soul was full of compassion for the young, fair, and unhappy
creature, and, while he took hold of her chin, which had sunk on her
bosom, lifted her white face, and moistened her forehead and lips with
water, he softly prayed for her salvation.

The shallow cavity of the stones only offered room for a very small
quantity of the refreshing moisture, and so he was obliged to return
several times to the spring. While he was away the dog remained by his
mistress, and would now lick her hand, now put his sharp little nose
close up to her mouth, and examine her with an anxious expression, as if
to ascertain her state of health.

When Paulus had gone the first time to fetch some water for Sirona
he had found the dog by the side of the spring, and he could not help
thinking, "The unreasoning brute has found the water without a guide
while his mistress is dying of thirst. Which is the wiser--the man or
the brute?" The little dog on his part strove to merit the anchorite's
good feelings towards him, for, though at first he had barked at him,
h