His
child!"

Zarah knelt down, and poured out her simple Prayer. First, she
besought God for Hadassah; that He would comfort the bereaved one,
grant her rest from her tribulation, and give her the desire of her
heart. Tears mingled with this prayer, as Zarah thought of the
desolation to which the aged widow was left. "Let her not weep long
for me," murmured the maiden; "and oh, never let her want a loving one
to tend her in sickness and comfort her in sorrow, better than I could
have done." The Hebrew girl then prayed for her country, and for those
who were fighting for its freedom; especially for Judas Maccabeus, that
God would be his shield and defender, and cover his head in the day of
battle. Zarah forgot not her unknown father. She now pleaded for him
more fervently than she had ever pleaded before; and, by some
mysterious connection in her mind, thoughts of her lost parent linked
themselves to remembrance of the generous courtier to whose
intercession she had owed her present respite from torture and death.
The young prisoner implored her Lord not to let the Syrian suffer for
his kindness to a stranger, but to requite it sevenfold into his own
bosom.

Zarah did not yet rise from her knees. Her supplications became yet
more fervent as she prayed for another, dearest of all. No fear of
displeasing God now marred the comfort which the maiden found in
supplication for a Gentile. It was not sinful, she thought, for the
dying to love. Her misery might be the means which God would deign to
employ in winning Lycidas from the errors of idolatrous worship. She
might be permitted, as it were to beckon to her beloved from the other
side of the grave.

Zarah arose from her devotions feeling almost happy. It seemed to her
as if the worst bitterness of death were already passed. She again
partook, with a thankful spirit, of needful refreshment, and afterwards
laid herself down to rest. The prisoner had had no refreshing sleep
during the preceding terrible night, and now her eyelids were heavy.
Soft slumber stole over Zarah, as the Psalmist's words were on her
lips, _I will both lay me down in peace and sleep, for Thou, Lord, only
makest me dwell in safety_.

CHAPTER XXIII.

FOUND AT LAST.

So profound was the slumber of the weary girl that she heard not the
sound of opening the door, nor a step on the marble floor, and lay
unconscious of the yearning, anxious, mournful gaze that was fixed upon
her