ked?"

"Yes, very. And I do not care."

She arranged the nightgown carefully in the corner of the window, with
the chips of the frame about it. There was only one match in the box.
She drew it carefully along the wall. For a moment it burnt up blue, and
showed the tiny face with its glistening eyes. She held it carefully to
the paper. For an instant it burnt up brightly, then flickered and went
out. She blew the spark, but it died also. Then she threw the paper on
to the ground, trod on it, and went to her bed, and began to undress.

Em rushed to the door, knocking against it wildly.

"Oh, Tant Sannie! Tant Sannie! Oh, let us out!" she cried. "Oh, Lyndall,
what are we to do?"

Lyndall wiped a drop of blood off the lip she had bitten.

"I am going to sleep," she said. "If you like to sit there and howl till
the morning, do. Perhaps you will find that it helps; I never heard that
howling helped any one."

Long after, when Em herself had gone to bed and was almost asleep,
Lyndall came and stood at her bedside.

"Here," she said, slipping a little pot of powder into her hand; "rub
some on to your face. Does it not burn where she struck you?"

Then she crept back to her own bed. Long, long after, when Em was really
asleep, she lay still awake, and folded her hands on her little breast,
and muttered--

"When that day comes, and I am strong, I will hate everything that has
power, and help everything that is weak." And she bit her lip again.

The German looked out at the cabin door for the last time that night.
Then he paced the room slowly and sighed. Then he drew out pen and
paper, and sat down to write, rubbing his old grey eyes with his
knuckles before he began.

"My Chickens: You did not come to say good-bye to the old man. Might
you? Ah, well, there is a land where they part no more, where saints
immortal reign.

"I sit here alone, and I think of you. Will you forget the old man? When
you wake tomorrow he will be far away. The old horse is lazy, but he has
his stick to help him; that is three legs. He comes back one day with
gold and diamonds. Will you welcome him? Well, we shall see. I go to
meet Waldo. He comes back with the wagon; then he follows me. Poor boy?
God knows. There is a land where all things are made right, but that
land is not here.

"My little children, serve the Saviour; give your hearts to Him while
you are yet young. Life is short.

"Nothing is mine, otherwise I would say, Lyndall, t