Christina said,--

"You've found out what I mean by this time. Now just you write the
letter yourself: that's what the schoolmaster always does."

"I'll tell you what," began Emmerence, rising: "a letter like this
might get into wrong hands, or be lost; and we don't know exactly how
to write it, anyhow. The best way will be for me to go to Ivo and
tell him all about it. To-morrow is Sunday; so I sha'n't miss any
working-time: the feed is cut for the cows; I'll put it into the trough
over-night, and my sister can see to them for one day: the potatoes are
peeled. I'll fix it so that you'll have nothing to do but put the meat
over the fire. It's only seven hours' walk to Tuebingen by the valley,
and I'll travel like a fire-alarm: Sunday is long, and to-morrow night
I'll be back in good time."

"All alone will you go? And at night?"

"Alone? Our Lord God is everywhere, and he will hold his hand over a
poor girl." Almost angrily, she added, "I must go at night, or I
wouldn't be back to-morrow; and then he" (meaning Valentine) "would
scold."

[Illustration: Rosary.]

"I can't say no; I feel as if it must be so. Go, in God's name. Take my
rosary with you: there's a bit of wood in it from Mount Lebanon, which
I inherited from my great grandmother: that'll protect you." Taking her
rosary from the door-post where it hung, she handed it to Emmerence,
and continued, "Don't run too hard. Stay till Monday if you're tired:
there's time enough. I've a six-creutzer piece which I'll give you; and
here, take this bread with you: there's a blessing on bread taken from
the box. But what shall I say when people ask what's become of you? I
couldn't tell a story."

"Just say that I've something very important to do: people needn't know
every thing. I'll make haste, so as to be gone before he comes home."

With astounding readiness, Emmerence tripped up and down stairs and
arranged all things as she had proposed: then she went into her room to
put on her Sunday clothes. Christina helped her. As the girl drew her
prettiest collar out of the chest, something wrapped up in paper fell
upon the floor. "What is that?" asked Ivo's mother.

"A bit of glass Ivo once gave me when we were little bits of children,"
said Emmerence, hastily concealing it.

When the toilet was finished, Christina, untying her apron-strings and
tying them again, said, "I don't know how it is; but you ought not to
go, after all."

"Not go! Ten horses wouldn't hold