him. She buried her face in his garments and kissed them,
fondly, tenderly, passionately, lingering over the task, and at last
putting the things from her with reluctance. A knot of ribbon which she
had seen him wear in the neck of his shirt on holidays she took and hid
in her bosom, and fetching a length of her own ribbon she put it in
place of the other. This she thought she could do without fear of
bringing suspicion on him, for he alone would discern the exchange.
Would he notice it? Would he weep when he found the ribbon as she wept
now? And fondle it tenderly? At the thought her tears gushed forth.

The day wore on. Supported by the knowledge that even a slight shock
might cast her mother into one of her fits, Anne hid her fears from her,
though the effort was as the lifting of a great weight. On the pretext
that the light hurt the invalid's sight, she shaded the window, and so
hid the hollows under her eyes and the wan looks that must have betrayed
the forced nature of her cheerfulness. As a rule Madame Royaume's eyes,
quickened by love, were keen; but this day she slept much, and the night
was fairly advanced when Anne, in the act of preparing to lie down,
turned and saw her mother sitting erect in the bed.

The old woman's eyes were strangely bright. Her face wore an intent
expression which arrested her daughter where she stood.

"Mother, what is it?" she cried.

"Listen!" Madame Royaume answered. "What is that?"

"I hear nothing," Anne said, hoping to soothe her. And she approached
the bed.

"I hear much," her mother retorted. "Go! Go and see, child, what it
is!" She pointed to the door, but, before Anne could reach it, she
raised her hand for silence. "They are crossing the ditch," she
muttered, her eyes dilated. "One, two, many, many of them! Many of them!
They are throwing down hurdles, and wattles, and crossing on them! And
there is a priest with them----"

"Mother!"

"A priest!" Her voice dropped a little. "The ladders are black," she
whispered. "Black ladders! Ay, swathed in black cloth; and now they set
them against the wall. The priest absolves them, and they begin to
mount. They are mounting! They are mounting now."

"Mother!" There was sharp pain in Anne's voice. Who does not know the
heartache with which it is seen that the mind of a loved one is
wandering from us? And yet she was puzzled. She dreaded one of those
scenes in which her young strength was barely sufficient to control and
so