Nehushta examined the room. No hiding-place could be better--unless the
merchant chanced to come to visit his store. Well, that must be risked.
Down she sped, and with much toil and difficulty carried her still
swooning mistress up the steps and into the chamber, where she laid her
on a heap of sacks.
Again, by an afterthought, she ventured to descend, this time to fetch
the broken jar of water. Then she closed the door, setting it fast with
a piece of wood, and began to chafe Rachel's hands and to sprinkle her
face from the jar. Presently the dark eyes opened and her mistress sat
up.
"Is it over, and is this Paradise?" she murmured.
"I should not call the place by that name, lady," answered Nehushta,
drily, "though perhaps, in contrast with the hell that we have left,
some might think it so. Drink!" and she held the water to her lips.
Rachel obeyed her eagerly. "Oh! it is good," she said. "But how came we
here out of that rushing crowd?"
Before she answered, muttering "After the mistress, the maid," Nehushta
swallowed a deep draught of water in her turn, which, indeed, she needed
sorely. Then she told her all.
"Oh! Nou," said Rachel, "how strong and brave you are! But for you I
should be dead.
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