ack to her,Team USA Tröjor, and with it the fountains of self-renouncing pity and affection, of faithfulness and resolve. The words that were marked by the quiet hand in the little old book that she had long ago learned by heart,Adam Clendening Tröjor, rushed even to her lips, and found a vent for themselves in a low murmur that was quite lost in the loud driving of the rain against the window and the loud moan and roar of the wind. “I have received the Cross,Henrik Lundqvist Tröjor, I have received it from Thy hand; I will bear it, and bear it till death,Nike Kobe 9 Elite Damskie, as Thou hast laid it upon me.”
But soon other words rose that could find no utterance but in a sob — “Forgive me, Stephen! It will pass away. You will come back to her.”
She took up the letter, held it to the candle, and let it burn slowly on the hearth. To-morrow she would write to him the last word of parting.
“I will bear it, and bear it till death. But how long it will be before death comes! I am so young, so healthy. How shall I have patience and strength? Am I to struggle and fall and repent again? Has life other trials as hard for me still?”
With that cry of self-despair,Sam Bennett Tröjor, Maggie fell on her knees against the table, and buried her sorrow-stricken face. Her soul went out to the Unseen Pity that would be with her to the end. Surely there was something being taught her by this experience of great need; and she must be learning a secret of human tenderness and long-suffering, that the less erring could hardly know? “O God, if my life is to be long, let me live to bless and comfort ——”
At that moment Maggie felt a startling sensation of sudden cold about her knees and feet,Jeff Beukeboom Tröjor; it was water flowing under her,Vladimir Tarasenko Tröjor. She started up; the stream was flowing under the door that led into the passage. She was not bewildered for an instant,Laurent Brossoit Tröjor; she knew it was the flood!
The tumult of emotion she had been enduring for the last twelve hours seemed to have left a great calm in her; without screaming, she hurried with the candle upstairs to Bob Jakin’s bedroom. The door was ajar; she went in and shook him by the shoulder.
“Bob, the flood is come! it is in the house; let us see if we can make the boats safe.”
She lighted his candle, while the poor wife,Marcus Johansson Tröjor, snatching up her baby, burst into screams; and then she hurried down again to see if the waters were rising fast. There was a step down into the room at the door leading from the staircase; she saw that the water was already on a level with the step. While she was looking, something came with a tremendous crash against the window, and sent the leaded panes and the old wooden framework inward in shivers, the water pouring in after it.
“It is the boat!” cried Maggie. “Bob,Joe Mullen Tröjor, come down to get the boats!”
And without a moment’s shudder of fear, she plunged through the water, which was rising fast to her knees, and by the glimmering light of the candle she had left on the stairs,Colton Parayko Tröjor, she mounted on to the window-sill, and crept into the boat,Patrice Bergeron Tröjor, which was left with the prow lodging and protruding through the window. Bob was not long after her, hurry
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