the kitchen door.
She heard only the deep breathing of the old captain from across the
sitting room and now and then the sobbing breath of Prudence, like
the breathing of a hurt child that has fallen asleep in pain and
half wakes to a realization of it.

As she turned to close the outer door softly behind her, the girl's
heart throbbed in response to the old woman's sorrow. While she sat
on the bench to lace her shoes the cat, old Tabby, came rubbing and
purring about her skirts. Muffled, as though from a great distance,
a rooster vented a questioning crow as though he doubted that it was
yet time to announce the birth of another day.

She went to the barn to feed Queenie for the last time. That
outraged old creature displayed her surprised countenance at the
opening above her manger and blew sonorously through her nostrils.
Perhaps the gray mare remembered how she had been aroused at a
similar hour once before, and by Cap'n Ira himself. That experience
must have been keen in the Queen of Sheba's memory if she had any
memory at all.

But the troubled girl gave the mare less attention than usual,
throwing down some fodder and pouring a measure of corn into the
manger. The mare turned to that with appetite. Corn came not amiss
to Queenie, no matter at what hour it was vouchsafed her. Her sound
old teeth did not stop crunching the kernels as Sheila went out of
the barn.

From the shed she secured an ax and a spade, as well as a basket.
In spite of her condition of mind she knew exactly what she wanted
to do--and she did it. Had she thought out her intention for
months she could have gone about the matter no more directly and
practically. Yet, had one stopped Sheila and asked her what she
was about--exactly what her intentions were--the query would have
found her unprepared with an answer.

Both her physical and mental condition precluded Sheila from going
far from the Ball homestead. What she had been through during these
past few days had drained out of her physical vigor as well as all
intellectual freshness.

When Cap'n Ira Ball had led the feebly protesting Queen of Sheba
across these empty fields to her intended sacrifice, the two had
made no more dreary picture against the dim dawn than did Sheila
now. She carried the bundle she had made slung over one shoulder by
a length of rope. The spade, ax, and basket balanced her figure on
the other side; she bent forward as she walked and, from a distance,
Prudence