What had occurred was doubtless the will of the great God of his fathers, whose power far surpassed the might of any other deity.

He himself was a Hebrew, yet she would surely believe his assurance that he was guiltless of the plague and would gladly recall her uncle and cousin to life, had he the power to do so.

For her sake he would undertake the most difficult enterprise.
She smiled kindly and replied: "My poor boy! If I see any guilt in you, it is only that you are one of a race which knows no ruth, no patience.

Our beloved, hapless dead! They must even lose the lamentations of their kindred; for the house where they rest is plague-stricken and no one is permitted to enter." She silently wiped her eyes and went on arranging her garlands, but tear after tear coursed down her cheeks.
Ephraim knew not what to say, and mutely handed her the leaves and blossoms.

Whenever his hand touched hers a thrill ran through his veins.
His head and the wound began to ache, and he sometimes felt a slight chill.