into the palace and into the cottage. The
garden lay close under the house; a bright spot enough by day; for
in that soil, whatever was planted grew and blossomed in spite of
neglect. The white roses glimmered out in the dusk all the night
through; the red were lost in shadow. Between the low boundary of
the garden and the hills swept one or two green meadows; Ruth looked
into the grey darkness till she traced each separate wave of outline.
Then she heard a little restless bird chirp out its wakefulness from
a nest in the ivy round the walls of the house. But the mother-bird
spread her soft feathers, and hushed it into silence. Presently,
however, many little birds began to scent the coming dawn, and
rustled among the leaves, and chirruped loud and clear. Just above
the horizon, too, the mist became a silvery grey cloud hanging on the
edge of the world; presently it turned shimmering white; and then,
in an instant, it flushed into rose, and the mountain-tops sprang
into heaven, and bathed in the presence of the shadow of God. With
a bound, the sun of a molten fiery red came above the horizon, and
immediately thousands of little birds sang out for joy, and a soft
chorus of mysterious, glad murmurs came forth from the earth; the low
whispering wind left its hiding-place among the clefts and hollows of
the hills, and wandered among the rustling herbs and trees, waking
the flower-buds to the life of another day. Ruth gave a sigh of
relief that the night was over and gone; for she knew that soon
suspense would be ended, and the verdict known, whether for life or
for death. She grew faint and sick with anxiety; it almost seemed
as if she must go into the room and learn the truth. Then she heard
movements, but they were not sharp or rapid, as if prompted by any
emergency; then, again, it was still. She sat curled up upon the
floor, with her head thrown back against the wall, and her hands
clasped round her knees. She had yet to wait. Meanwhile, the invalid
was slowly rousing himself from a long, deep, sound, health-giving
sleep. His mother had sat by him the night through, and was now
daring to change her position for the first time; she was even
venturing to give directions in a low voice to the old nurse, who
had dozed away in an arm-chair, ready to obey any summons of her
mistress. Mrs Bellingham went on tiptoe towards the door, and chiding
herself because her stiff, weary limbs made some slight noise. She
had an irrepress