Mary closed her eyes and sank back on her couch, greatly exhausted by the effort she had made. She had hoped that the account of all that she herself had heard and seen might make a deep impression on the heart of Claudia, and she was not disappointed; but her strength was almost unequal to the exertion of so long a discourse on subjects so profoundly interesting to her, and for a few minutes she lay silent and motionless, while in her spirit she fervently prayed. Her young friends and her faithful attendant Hannah, who had listened to the conversation with deep attention, stood round her in silence, until she had somewhat recovered her strength, when she raised herself, and again addressed them, but in a weak and faltering voice-- "The evening is closing in, my children, and you have already tarried too long with me. I will detain you no more: but if we meet again in this world, I will tell you yet many things that will touch your hearts with love to your Redeemer, and furnish you with blessed subjects for reflection when youth and health are gone, and you are, like me, laid on the bed of death. Let me bless you before you depart." The three young disciples knelt beside the couch of the dying saint, and with tears received her blessing. They then rose, and embracing her affectionately, left the house and hastened towards the city. The sun was sinking behind the hill of Zion as they began to descend the Mount of Olives, and the short twilight had faded away before they reached the valley of Kedron, and entered the gardens that bordered the murmuring brook. Their spirits were oppressed with awe and sadness, for the solemn interest of Mary's discourse had deeply impressed them, and her parting address had filled them with sorrow. They felt assured that their beloved friend was leaving them; and though it would be to her a transition from a world of care to a world of joy unutterable and full of glory, yet they could not think of losing her without emotion. They proceeded almost in silence, until, as they were passing by the verge of a thick grove of olive-trees, Claudia pressed the arm of Theophilus, and hastily whispered: "Listen, Theophilus: some one is surely watching us. I have heard footsteps behind us several times; but I saw nothing, and I feared you would chide me for cowardice if I spoke my fears. But now I am sure we are followed. I saw the figure of a man folded in a dark garment pass stealthily beneath those trees." "Why should you fear, my Claudia?" replied Theophilus. "No one can harm us here. See, the gates are in sight, and I can perceive the dim forms of the watch-men moving slowly along the walls. We are within reach of help, and I am armed, so do not tremble."