When Iddo next met her mother she had learnt to sing, and her mother thought her voice the sweetest she had ever heard. She was not alone in her opinion. Many a one was cheered on his way to the Radiant City by the sound of it. Some who had fallen on the road, being hard pressed by the enemy, and the victims of Despondency or Despair, lifted up their heads, as Iddo's voice caught their ears, while others who were on the eve of wandering from the right path, resolutely turned away from the enemy who was tempting them. For Iddo sang of the wonderful love of the King, Who had died for them, and was even then watching them, and of the glory and brightness of the Radiant City to which they were travelling. And she sang moreover of the Coming of the King, to which she was looking forward now with ardent expectation. And the words she sang were these:— "Thou art coming, oh my Saviour, Thou art coming, oh my King, In Thy beauty, all resplendent, In Thy glory, all-transcendent; Well may we rejoice and sing; Coming:—In the opening East, Herald brightness slowly swells; Coming:—O my glorious Priest, Hear we not Thy golden bells?" One day in the midst of her singing, Iddo felt her mother, with whom she was walking hand in hand, step forward alone, towards a river running at the foot of the hill, which the girl had not noticed. A sudden panic of apprehension seized her. "Mother, Mother," she cried: but even as she spoke, her mother turned round with a radiant smile on her face, and, waving farewell to her child stepped into the waters with a song on her lips. Iddo sank on to the ground, her song silenced. For a time she lay quite still, her face hidden in the long grass, her hands outstretched in misery. Then suddenly across the hills came the voices of the pilgrims singing:— "Oh sweet and blessed country, The home of God's elect! Oh sweet and blessed country, That eager hearts expect: Jesus, in mercy bring us To that dear land of rest; Who art, with God the Father, And Spirit, ever bless'd." Gradually the words of the beautiful song brought comfort and healing to her heart, and before long her voice was heard, sweet and true, as she walked through the Valley of the Shadow, for she could be silent no longer, as the King Himself had taught her to sing—even songs in the night. CHAPTER XVI. THE BRINK OF THE RIVER. Amer's path had now for some time led him by the banks of the river that flowed through the Valley of the Shadows. In its shadows he found many waiting for the King's guard to take them across, and going in and out among them, Amer did what he could to remind them of the King's love and of His mercy.