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Updated: May 27, 2025
To her little son she returned, and in her arms she cherished him in her trembling arms and the tears came at last, welcome and heart-stilling. Old Gesafam, gazing compassionately with troubled eyes that blinked behind their mica shields, laid a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder. "Do not weep, O Yulcia, mistress!" she exclaimed in her own tongue. "Weep not, for there is still hope.
At his appearance Ivan halted for one, heart-stilling instant. Then he muttered, in a hoarse, dry voice: "My mother! She is dead?" Piotr slowly shook his head, replying: "Not yet. They have sent for you."
I prayed, often and ardently, but ever came that heart-stilling whisper that there was nothing to pray to. Ah, the bitter, hopeless heart-hunger of godlessness none but an atheist can understand! Nothing to live for in life no hope beyond the grave. It plunged me into fits of profound melancholy.
It tilted forward and downward with a heart-stilling "Ssssooo"; the ladder disappeared; a line of brass-rimmed port-holes flashed past; a jet of steam puffed in Harvey's helplessly uplifted hands; a spout of hot water roared along the rail of the We're Here, and the little schooner staggered and shook in a rush of screw-torn water, as a liner's stern vanished in the fog.
Athwart that dream came a sudden, frightful, heart-stilling roar of destruction; a hideous crash followed, a terrible rending, breaking, smashing, concatenation of noises, succeeded by frightful detonations, as through the gaping hole torn in the great battleship by the deadly torpedo, the water rushed upon the heated boilers, the explosion of which in turn ignited the magazines.
Her players were being shoved back for loss with heart-stilling regularity. There was no need for Clifford to kick, and all of Frank's frantic appeals to his men to hold seemed of no avail. There was somewhat of a bitter feeling when, after some tremendous line-smashing, Coots, the left half, was shoved over the line for a touchdown, and that gave the cohorts of Clifford a chance to break loose.
When she stood on the ground beside him, stroking his shaggy, uncurried flanks or feeding him bits of sugar, she felt not the slightest fear. Yet the minute she climbed up into the saddle she sickened under the grip of some increasingly heart-stilling panic. Even before Ben started forward; so it wasn't Ben's rocking, lop-sided gait that was really at the bottom of her fear it only accentuated it.
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