Perhaps not one of the imprisoned souls had been able quite to separate itself in living thought from its old companion.

If any had, it had still felt for it a love like that which captives have been known to bear towards the cell in which they have been long confined, and, even at parting, hung upon its narrow bounds affectionately.
It was long before the child closed the window, and approached her bed.
Again something of the same sensation as before--an involuntary chill--a momentary feeling akin to fear--but vanishing directly, and leaving no alarm behind.

Again, too, dreams of the little scholar; of the roof opening, and a column of bright faces, rising far away into the sky, as she had seen in some old scriptural picture once, and looking down on her, asleep.

It was a sweet and happy dream.

The quiet spot, outside, seemed to remain the same, saving that there was music in the air, and a sound of angels' wings.