way to the
southward.

Within the shack Mrs. Papineau busied herself in many ways, placing
things in order and fussing about the stove, upon which she had placed
a pot containing more herbs she had brought with her. Every few
minutes she interrupted her work in order to take another look at
Hugo. Once or twice Madge saw a big tear roll down her fat cheeks,
which she swiftly wiped off with her sleeve. A little later she
managed to make the man swallow some of her concoction. He appeared to
obey unconsciously, but when she spoke to him he just babbled
something which neither of the women understood. Finally the
Frenchwoman sat down at the side of Madge, snuffling a little, and
began to whisper.

"Big strong man one day," she commented, "an' dis day seek an' weak
lak one leetle child. Eet is de way so strange of de Providence. It
look lak de good Lord make one fine man, fines' Heem can make--a man
as should get de love of vomans an' leetle children--an' den Heem mak
up his min' for to tak heem avay. An' Heem good Lord know why, but I
tink I better pray. Maybe de good Lord Heem 'ear an' tink let heem lif
a whiles yet, eh?"

And so the woman knelt down and repeated prayers, for the longest
time, speaking hurriedly the invocations she had all her life, known
by heart, and ending each one with the devout crossing of her breast.
Then Madge, for the first time in a very long while, remembered words
she had so often heard in the little village church at home, which
promised that whenever two or three were gathered together in the name
of the Lord, He would be among them. Yes, she had heard that assurance
often in the place of worship she could now see so vividly, in which
the open windows, on summer days, let in the droning of the bees and
the scent of honeysuckle outside. So she knelt beside the other woman
and began to pray also, haltingly, in words that came well-nigh
unbidden because they were the call of a heart in sore travail which
had long forgotten how to pray for itself. And it seemed as if the
great Power above must surely be listening.

Finally Mrs. Papineau rose. She was compelled to go back home and see
that the children were fed. She promised she would return in a short
time. The doctor would certainly not come before night, perhaps not
even until early morning, for he would be compelled to make a journey
on the train. Papineau would wait for him, of course. As soon as he
had sent the message he would give th