me red changing to pale yellow,
and that again to cool, sombre gray--the time of waiting seemed to the
unskilled watcher well-nigh interminable.

CHAPTER XIII.

SHIP-FEVER.

Presently Gretchen spoke. Her voice was thick, her accent even more
foreign than usual, and at first the listener could not understand the
words. But she put her ear close down to the bed and made out:--

"Miss Etta, am I going to die?"

"I don't know," said Etta, bewildered; "I hope not."

"I'm not afraid," said the German, "but--but it looks all so strange
and dark. You didn't use to tell us about Jesus, and I couldn't rightly
understand the minister; but don't it say _here_," putting her hand upon
the Bible by her side, "that he will save everybody that comes to him?"
Her teacher nodded. "Coming to him is asking him, isn't it?" Another
nod. "Then, please, Miss Etta, ask him for me. I can't. I can't seem to
think. Ask him _now_."

Poor Etta! never in her life had she been so confused. She had only
just learned to pray for herself. She had not yet overcome the reticence
which we all feel concerning our own interest in spiritual things
sufficiently to tell her own sister of her experience and purpose--how
could she bring herself to do this hard thing which her scholar asked of
her? But the scholar had a human soul, and that soul might be very near
to eternity. How could she refuse to do this thing which, by the very
nature of her position toward her, the scholar had a right to ask?

Then an idea struck her, and opening her hymn-book,--for she had
expected to attend the evening service after ascertaining the cause of
her scholar's absence,--she knelt close to the window, and in the
fast-fading light read in a tone of reverent supplication the hymn
commencing,--

"Just as I am, without one plea,
But that Thy blood was shed for me,
And that Thou biddest me come to Thee,
Oh, Lamb of God, I come!"

Every word of the hymn was prayer, and Etta felt grateful for this help
in doing what would have otherwise seemed to her impossible. She threw
her whole soul into the last line of each verse, and could not but hope
that Gretchen, who lay quite still now, though saying nothing, was
following and saying in her heart,--

"Oh, Lamb of God, I come!"

After this there was silence and darkness, and Etta continued to kneel
with her face hidden on the win