all her courage not to be afraid of the awful rocks that rose all above and around her, perpendicular in the gloom. And the great blast of an icy wind swept upward like something flying upon great wings, so tremendous was the force of it, whirling from the depths below, sucked upwards by the very warmth of the life above, so that the little pilgrim herself caught at the rocks that she might not be swept again towards the top, or dashed against the stony pinnacles that stood up on every side. She was glad when she found a little platform under her feet for a moment where she could rest, and also because she had come, not from curiosity to see that gulf, but with the hope and desire to meet some one to whom she could be of a little comfort or help in the terrors of the way. While she stood for a moment to get her breath, she became sensible that some living thing was near, and putting out her hand she felt that there was round her something that was like a bastion upon a fortified wall, and immediately a hand touched hers, and a soft voice said, ‘Sister, fear not! for this is the watch-tower, and I am one of those who keep the way.’ She had started and trembled indeed, not that she feared, but because the delicate fabric of her being was such that every movement of the wind, and even those that were instinctive and belonged to the habits of another life, betrayed themselves in her. And ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘I knew not that there were any watch-towers, or any one to help, but came because my heart called me, if perhaps I might hold out my hand in the darkness, and be of use where there was no light.’ ‘Come and stand by me,’ said the watcher; and the little pilgrim saw that there was a whiteness near to her, out of which slowly shaped the face of a fair and tender woman, whom she knew not, but loved. And though they could scarcely see each other, yet they knew each other for sisters, and kissed, and took comfort together, holding each other’s hands in the midst of the awful gloom. And the little pilgrim questioned in low and hushed tones--‘Is it to help that you are here?’ ‘To help when that may be; but rather to watch, and to send the news and make it known that one is coming--that the bells of joy may be sounded, and all the blessed may rejoice.’ ‘Oh,’ said the little pilgrim, ‘tell me your name, that I may do you honour: for to gain such high promotion can be given only to the great who are made perfect, and to those who love most.’