from the bed, and let him
approach; but, before she did so, she bent over her husband and said,--

'Have you gone to the Saviour of the world for forgiveness through His
precious blood, Ambrose? He alone can forgive sins.'

'I know it! I know it!' was the reply.

But the priest interfered now.

'Withdraw, my daughter, for the end is near.'

Then Mary, bending still lower, pressed a kiss upon the forehead, where the
cold dews of death were gathering, and, turning towards her boy, she
said,--

'Where shall I take him? Where can I go with him, my son, my son?'

There was something in Mary's self-restraint and in the pathetic tones of
her voice, which moved those who stood around to pity as she repeated,--

'Where can I find a refuge with my child? I cannot remain here with him.'

One of the Brothers raised Ambrose again in his arms, and saying, 'Follow
me,' he carried him to a small chamber on the upper floor, where he laid
him down on a heap of straw covered with an old sacking, and said in
English,--

'This is all I can do for you. Yonder room whence we came is kept for those
stricken with the fever. Two of them died yesterday. We were burned out of
house and home, and our oratory sacked and destroyed at Axel. We fled
hither, and a troop of the Duke's army is within a mile to protect us.'

'Is there no leech at hand, no one to care for my child?'

'There was one here yester eve. He is attached to the troop I speak of, and
has enow to do with the sick there. Famine and moisture have done their
work, and God knows where it will end. There is a good woman at a small
homestead not a mile away. She has kept us from starving, and, like many of
the Hollanders, has a kind heart. I will do my best to get her to befriend
you, Mistress, for I see you are in a sorry plight.'

'Even water to wet his lips would be a boon. I pray you fetch water,' she
entreated.

The man disappeared, and presently returned with a rough pitcher of water
and a flagon in which, he said, was a little drink prepared from herbs by
the kindly Vrouw he had spoken of.

'I will seek her as quickly as other claims permit,' he said. And then Mary
was left alone with her boy.

The restlessness of fever was followed by a spell of utter exhaustion, but
the delirious murmurs ceased, and a light of consciousness came into those
large, lustrous eyes, by which Mary knew this was indeed her son.

Otherwise, what a change from the rosy, happy child of s