Molly was not in strong health, and perhaps this made her a little
fanciful; but certain it is that her thoughts by day and her dreams
by night were haunted by the idea of Roger lying ill and untended in
those savage lands. Her constant prayer, "O my Lord! give her the
living child, and in no wise slay it," came from a heart as true as
that of the real mother in King Solomon's judgment. "Let him live,
let him live, even though I may never set eyes upon him again. Have
pity upon his father! Grant that he may come home safe, and live
happily with her whom he loves so tenderly--so tenderly, O God." And
then she would burst into tears, and drop asleep at last, sobbing.