"
"Thank God, thank God," she panted, and she rushed at the rock that
had held him in such terrible durance.
He struggled up and tried to pull her hands away.
"Don't do that, Jennie," he said, "you are not quite an angel yet,
and cannot 'roll the stone away.'"
"O God!" she exclaimed, with a sharp cry of agony, "in some such
way and place HE may have died," and she sank to the ground, moaning
and wringing her hands as if overwhelmed with agony at the thought.
Van Berg reached out and took her hand, forgetting for a moment
his own desperate need, as he said: "Dear Jennie, don't grieve so
terribly."
"God forgive me, that I could forget you!" she said, starting up.
"I must not lose a second in bringing you help."
But he clung feebly to her hand. "Wait, Jennie, till you are more
calm. My life depends on you now. The hotel is a long way off,
and if you start in your present mood you will never reach it
yourself, and I had better die a thousand times than cause harm to
you."
She put her hand on her side and her convulsive sobbing soon ceased.
After a moment or two she said quietly: "You can trust me now,
Mr. Van Berg; I won't fail you."
"Do you think you could bring me a little water before you go?" he
asked.
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