"
"The vengeance of the Lord hangeth over the wicked by a burnt thread,"
said Aminadab.
"Yes, who was to know that her own protector, even the great spirit of
her land, was to come here to help her? He was seen last night again! He
wanders about and about--flits hither and thither. He needs no rest--no
food. He is independent of rain, and wind, and thunder, and storms."
"But he does not help her," said Aminadab.
"His time is coming. Kalee is dying."
"Dying!"
"Ay, dying. Then Brahma will claim that which is a part of himself, and
then will be the time of his return to his chosen people."
"Horrible!" ejaculated Aminadab. The chicken stood untasted. "Does Mr.
Fletcher know this?"
"Why, to be sure, haven't I told him? But may not a child die in its own
cradle, and the father continue feasting with the lords and the lairds,
drinking and swearing, and debauching, when he knows that his honour is
discharged,--ay, and the blood-bond paid?"
"And the body, when she dies--"
"Will be in Logie burying-ground; ay, and strange people from the East,
a long way beyond where our sun rises, with black faces and bleeding
hearts, will come and bend over the little grave, and weep for the
daughter of their prince.
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