The awaking from this dream to the desolation around her was more terrible than all she had felt before. It must have bereft her of reason, but for the echo of three cheering words, which seemed to have awakened her— "I will come." The next day, with the light of that radiant vision on her heart, she dragged her fettered limbs to the altar, and strove with her feeble and trembling hands to tear that marred image from the shrine. But in vain. It was too firmly imbedded there; and she could only turn her face from it, and weep, and cry for help. And before the next morning's dawn, help came. In the night, a heavenly visitant descended; and with human words, in a language she had not spoken for years, but every word of which melted her heart like the accents of her mother-tongue, he touched her chains, and they fell off. He spoke, and the wild beasts fled, howling; he touched her broken harp, and it was restrung and tuned; he touched the dry and choked up channel of the sacred spring, and it welled forth pure and fresh from beneath the altar; he touched the idol on the shrine, and it fell, and in its stead shone that wondrous Radiance which she had seen in her dream. Then he poured on her head the fragrant oil of consecration, and clothed her in a white vestal priestly garment, and placed the restrung harp in her hand, and rose again to heaven. At first her joy knew no measure. She gazed on the sacred shrine, and in its glory at times she perceived the lineaments of the form of Him who had done all this for her. She touched her harp, and the sweet strings responded as if they knew her hand; she sang holy songs in that old, long-forgotten, yet familiar tongue, so heavenly and happy that the wild beasts would not venture near, and the morning-birds were silent to listen. She bathed in the newly-opened fountain and drank of it, and as she drank, her strength and her youth came back. For a time her joy was without cloud or measure; but as the daylight returned, the desolation or the ruined temple struck sadly on her heart. It was indeed a sacred place once more, and she its consecrated priestess; but was this ruin never to be repaired? She began to cleanse the sacred vessels and to sweep the earth of all the refuse and dry bones which had been gathered there. And then, with her renewed strength, she set herself to collect the broken fragments of the columns, and tried to piece together the shattered tracery and the delicate carvings of flower and foliage. But it was in vain. She could indeed bring the shattered fragments together and see what they had been, but she could not join them, or replace one prostrate shaft or capital.