egan to fall.

At the moment when Hayoue and Okoya found shelter in the caves of the
Water clan, Shotaye dashed through the gangway of the building. A
tremendous shower was falling, and as soon as she entered the court she
was drenched from head to foot, to the great delight of those who, well
protected themselves, were standing in the doorways of their quarters.
One single voice called to her to come in, but she took no notice of it.
Blinded by the torrents of falling water, she groped her way along the
walls, and finally stumbled into the open door of Say Koitza's home. Not
a single thread of her scanty clothing was dry; her hair, soaked and
dripping, clung to her forehead and cheeks as if glued to the skin;
water filled her eyes, nostrils, and ears. She removed the hair from her
brow, shook herself, coughed, sneezed, and looked around. The room was
empty, but in the inner cell a fire crackled on the hearth; and Say came
out. At the sight of her friend she burst into a hearty laugh, and
asked,--

"Where do you come from?"

"Tziro kauash." Shotaye coughed, then in a whisper she inquired,--

"Are you alone?"

Say's brow clouded, and a deadly pang seized her. What meant this query,
this call so unusual, so mysterious? In a low, hollow tone she
replied,--

"We are alone," and turned back into the kitchen. Her friend's question
sounded like a prelude to dismal tidings.

Both women squatted close to the fire. Not a word was spoken. The
new-comer was busy drying herself, and the mistress of the house was
struck by her rather cheerful looks. Possibly her sad presentiment was
wrong. It was almost impossible to talk, except in a very loud tone; for
the rain fairly roared, peals of thunder followed each other in quick
succession, flashes of yellow lightning quivered outside of the little
port-hole. The room itself was very dark.

How often had the two women sat here years ago in anxious doubt, but
hopeful at last! How often had Say Koitza complained to her friend on
this very spot,--complained of her illness, of the sad outlook before
her; and when she began to recuperate how often she told Shotaye about
her plans for the future. Now that future had come, and in what shape!

The roaring outside diminished gradually, the thunder sounded more
remote. Through the roof of mud and brush rivulets of water began to
burst, forming little puddles on the mud floor and dripping on the heads
of the two women. Shotaye took no noti