Holden stooped down, and taking into his arms the insensible form of Faith, bore her to the brook. Here he lavishly sprinkled her face with the cool water, and sobs and deep drawn sighs began, after a time, to herald a return to consciousness. Armstrong followed, and as he saw the pale girl lying like a corpse in the arms of Holden, he threw himself down by her side upon the grass, and took her passive hand, which lay cold in his own. "She is not dead, is she?" said he. "O, say to me, she is not dead. I thought I heard a voice from heaven--I expected to hear it--which commanded me to forbear. Did I disobey the angel? Was he too late? Too late, too late, too late! Oh, she is dead, dead. My Faith, my daughter, my darling! O, God, it was cruel in thee!" But presently, as we have said, sighs and sobs began to heave the bosom of Faith, and as she opened her languid eyes their soft light fell upon the face of her father. With a cry of delight he sprang from the ground. "She is not dead," he exclaimed, "she is alive! I knew it would be so. I knew it was only a trial of my faith. I knew God would send his angel. He has angels enough in heaven. What does he want of Faith yet? My darling," he said, getting down and leaning the head of his daughter upon his bosom, "God did not mean it in earnest. He only meant to try us. It is all over now, and hereafter we shall be so happy!" Holden, who, when Faith began to revive, had surrendered her to her father, stood looking on, while tears streamed down his face. Faith had now so far recovered as to sit up and look about her, and throwing her arms around her father's neck, she hid her face in his bosom." "My brain whirls," she said, "and it seems to me as if I had had a dreadful dream. I thought you wanted to kill me, father." "No, no, no!" cried Armstrong, "I never wanted to. It was my trial," he added, solemnly, "and I shall never have another, Faith. God is too merciful to try a man twice, so." "James," said Holden, and his voice sounded with unusual magnificence, "dost thou know me?" "Certainly," said Armstrong; "it is a strange question to ask me. You are Mr. Holden." "I am thy brother George." Without a doubt, without a misgiving, Armstrong, still holding his daughter, extended his hand to Holden. "So, George," he said, "you have risen from the dead to save Faith's life. I knew God would work a miracle if it was necessary." "I trust I have risen from the death of sin but I have never been in the grave of which thou speakest. Know that in veritable flesh and blood, I am thy brother George, who hath never tasted of death." But this was an idea which Armstrong was incapable of receiving. He shook his head, and muttering to himself, "Can the dead lie?" looked suspiciously at Holden.