"Is this the hall of death?"
"Nay, lady. Wait a while, all shall be explained."
While she spoke and Miriam clung to her affrighted, Ithiel struck iron
and flint together. Catching the spark upon tinder he blew it to a flame
and lighted a taper which burnt up slowly, causing his white beard and
face to appear by degrees out of the darkness, like that of a ghost
rising from the tomb.
"Oh! surely I am dead," said Miriam, "for before me stands the spirit of
my uncle Ithiel."
"Not the spirit, Miriam, but the flesh," answered the old man in a voice
that trembled with joy. Then, since he could restrain himself no longer,
he gave the taper to the brother, and, taking her in his arms, kissed
her again and again.
"Welcome, most dear child," he said; "yes, even to this darksome den,
welcome, thrice welcome, and blessed be the eternal God Who led our feet
forth to find you. Nay, do not stop to talk, we are still too near the
wall. Give me your hand and come."
Miriam glanced up as she obeyed, and by the feeble light of the taper
saw a vast rocky roof arching above them. On either side of her also
were walls of rough-hewn rock down which dripped water, and piled upon
the floor or still hanging half-cut from the roof, boulders large enough
to fashion a temple column.
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