be a bear. It was hardly probable that he would give this plan his
support. It was more probable that he and some of his men would at once
descend upon the feed box and confiscate her three friends. The
difficulty with her idea was that she could not learn its value without
trying it, and then in case of failure it would be too late for remedies
and other plans. She reflected that war made men very unreasonable.

All that she could do was to stand at the window and mournfully regard
the barn. She admitted this to herself with a sense of deep humiliation.
She was not, then, made of that fine stuff, that mental satin, which
enabled some other beings to be of such mighty service to the
distressed. She was defeated by a barn with one door, by four men with
eight eyes and eight ears--trivialities that would not impede the real
heroine.

The vivid white light of broad day began slowly to fade. Tones of gray
came upon the fields, and the shadows were of lead. In this more sombre
atmosphere the fires built by the troops down in the far end of the
orchard grew more brilliant, becoming spots of crimson colour in the
dark grove.

The girl heard a fretting voice from her mother's room. "Mary!" She
hastily obeyed the call. She perceived that she had quite forgotten her
mother's existence in this time of excitement.

The elder woman still lay upon the bed. Her face was flushed and
perspiration stood amid new wrinkles upon her forehead. Weaving wild
glances from side to side, she began to whimper. "Oh, I'm just sick--I'm
just sick! Have those men gone yet? Have they gone?"

The girl smoothed a pillow carefully for her mother's head. "No, ma.
They're here yet. But they haven't hurt anything--it doesn't seem. Will
I get you something to eat?"

Her mother gestured her away with the impatience of the ill.
"No--no--just don't bother me. My head is splitting, and you know very
well that nothing can be done for me when I get one of these spells.
It's trouble--that's what makes them. When are those men going? Look
here, don't you go 'way. You stick close to the house now."

"I'll stay right here," said the girl. She sat in the gloom and listened
to her mother's incessant moaning. When she attempted to move, her
mother cried out at her. When she desired to ask if she might try to
alleviate the pain, she was interrupted shortly. Somehow her sitting in
passive silence within hearing of this illness seemed to contribute to
her mother's