Prisoners of Chance

"He went down?"

He bowed his head silently, his fingers searching for his crucifix. I sat staring at him, crushed into helplessness.

In a few moments I felt the pressure of his fingers.

"The Lord hath preserved us as by fire," he said in low, solemn tone, "He hath ridden upon the flaming skies in his chariot, accompanied by angels and archangels. 'T is ours to bless His holy name."

I gazed into the rapt, boyish face, and said: "On my knees have I already acknowledged His mercy. I am not ungrateful."

The troubled countenance brightened with a quick smile.

"God is most good," he murmured; "He hath spared us that we may continue to honor Him, and do His work. The woman--does she also live?"

The question brought me instantly to my feet, wondering how I could have neglected her so long. But before I could advance to where she lay, she sat partially up, her face turned toward us.

"Eloise," I cried, the heart joy apparent in my voice. "Good God! I had forgotten."

She held forth her hand, her eyes smiling.

"I hold that not strange," she answered, the soft voice faltering slightly. "I saw you groping like a blind man, yet could neither move nor speak. I lay helpless as if paralyzed. Tell me what has happened."

I held her hand, falling upon my knees beside her, my eyes searching her sweet face.

"A lightning bolt smote the cliff," I explained rapidly, "rending the solid rock. Master Cairnes was hurled headlong into the chasm, and our pursuers were swept from the path. The very mouth of the cavern has been forever sealed."

"The cavern?" as if stifled, her eyes opening wide. "They--they are buried alive?"

"I doubt if any lived to know," I answered soberly. "'T is likely those within were crushed to death."

She dropped her face into her hands, sobbing hysterically. Unable to speak, I bowed my head until it touched her shoulder. The crippled priest crept toward us, forgetful of his own pain in the call of duty.

"Daughter," he said tenderly, stroking her brown hair with his slender fingers, "to live or die is as Christ wills. The Lord gave, the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord. Be of good comfort, remembering these words of promise, 'Lo! I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world.'"

She looked up through the mist of her tears, first into his face, then into mine.

"I have passed through much," she confessed simply, "yet 'tis not the spirit but the body which has become weakened. Forgive me, both of you."