Very early in the morning, Rachel, charged with this office by Stephen, breaks to Ruth the news of her husband's death. The two then go together to the place where the body of Stephen is laid. There, Ruth, kneeling in prayer beside her martyred husband, repentantly accepts his Lord for hers, becoming a Christian. Rachel, having hastily visited her home, to find Saul gone thence with purpose not to return, leaves the house in her maid's care and goes back to Ruth, to whom, being requested to do so, she tells the story of Stephen's stoning. Then the funeral of Stephen takes place, with a memorial discourse pronounced, and an elegy recited, at the tomb. RUTH AND RACHEL. The morrow morn broke fair in Bethany, And Ruth rose early from unquiet sleep; Rachel likewise, who slept in Mary's house. The sun had not yet risen, but in the west The moon hung whitening opposite the dawn, When Ruth, her children left asleep, went forth To feel the freshness of the morning air Without, and water from the village well To draw, both for the slaking of her thirst And for the cooling of her brow that burned And of her throbbing temples. At the well Rachel she met who earlier still was forth On the like errand. The two women hailed And kissed each other. Ruth to Rachel then Said: "Thou art not, I trow, this morning come Hither the long way from Jerusalem?" "Nay, Ruth," said Rachel, "here the yesternight With Mary and Martha I abode a guest." "How fresh the wind is," Ruth said, "hither blown From off the western sea! Us, underneath The crest of Olivet, it lights upon Descending, broken, like a breath from heaven. What a delicious balm!" "About my brow," Said Rachel, "gratefully I feel the air, Attempered so, soft flowing, as if one That loved me like a mother gently stroked My temples to undo a band of pain Bound round them." "And, in sooth," the other said, Now looking narrowly at Rachel's face, "Thou seemest sad of favor, Rachel. Thou, Thou too, so young, hast then thy cause to grieve! It is a sad world and a weary. But-- Forgive me if such quick instinctive fears Be selfish, I am wife and mother--aught Of evil tidings bringest thou me? Spare not To speak. Thou wilt but answer to the dreams I had this night, portending nameless ill. Stephen--I fear for him. He yesterday Left me beyond his wont oppressed in spirit, And has not since returned. Strange--yet not strange; Sometimes the livelong night he spends in prayer Alone upon the top of Olivet Or in the shadows of Gethsemane." "Ruth," Rachel said, "the Angel of the Lord Round His belovéd, like the mountains round Jerusalem, encampeth ever; he Of God's belovéd is, and guarded well!"