he walls are solid, so is the door. If you
cried in there, who would hear?

And now we are listening--someone is speaking: "Once there was one; she
cared for your God. She was buried into the wall in there, and that was
the end of her." . . .

But we are back in the drawing-room, hearing them tell us these things
could never be. . . . Three years passed, and a girl came for refuge to
us. She loved her people well; she would never have come to us had they
let her live as a Christian at home. But no, "Rather than that she shall
burn," they said. We were doubtful about her age, and we feared we
should have to give her up if the case came on in the courts. And if we
had to give her up? We looked at the gentle, trustful face, and we could
not bear the thought; and yet, according to our friends, the Government
made all safe.

About that time a paper came to the house; names, dates, means of
identification, all were given. This was the story in brief. A young
Brahman girl in another South Indian town wanted to be a Christian, and
confessed Christ at home. She earnestly wished to be baptised, but she
was too young then, and waited, learning steadily and continuing
faithful, though everything was done that could be done to turn her from
her purpose. She was betrothed against her will to her cousin, and
forbidden to have anything to do with the Christians. "She was never
allowed to go out alone, and was practically a prisoner."

For three years that child held on, witnessing steadfastly at home, and
letting it be clearly known that she was and would be a Christian. A
Hindu ceremony of importance in the family was held in her grandfather's
house, and she refused to go. This brought things to a crisis. Her
people appointed a council of five to investigate the matter. "She
maintained a glorious witness before them all," says the missionary;
"declared boldly that she was a Christian, and intended to join us; and
when challenged about the Bible, she held it out, and read it to the
assembled people."

For a time it seemed as if she had won the day, but fresh attempts were
made upon her constancy by certain religious bigots of the town. They
offered her jewels--that failed; tried to get her to turn Mussulman,
that being less disgraceful than to be a Christian; and last and worst,
tried to stain that white soul black--but, thank God! still they failed.

At last the waiting time was over; she was of age to be baptised, and
she wrot