I found myself among a people who were at once the gentlest of the human race and the most blood-thirsty--the kindest and the most cruel.

This mild, amiable, and self-sacrificing Kohen, how was it possible that he should transform himself to a fiend incarnate?
And for me and for Almah, what possible hope could there be?
What fate might they have in reserve for us?
Of what avail was all this profound respect, this incessant desire to please, this attention to our slightest wish, this comfort and luxury and splendor, this freedom of speech and action?
Was it anything better than a mockery?
Might it not be the shallow kindness of the priest to the victim reserved for the sacrifice?
Was it, after all, in any degree better than the kindness of the cannibal savages on those drear outer shores who received us with such hospitality, but only that they might destroy us at last?
Might they not all belong to the same race, dwelling as they did in caverns, shunning the sunlight, and blending kindness with cruelty?
It was an awful thought! Yet I had one consolation.

Almah was with me, and so long as she was spared to me I could endure this life.

I tried for her sake to resist the feelings that were coming over me.

I saw that she too was a prey to ever-deepening sadness.