ead.

At the foot of the cross, Gaud remained, surrounded by these tranquil
mysteries, gazing ever before her, until the night fell and she could
see no more.

CHAPTER VII--THE MOURNER'S VISION

September had passed. The sorrowing wife took scarcely any nourishment,
and could no longer sleep. She remained at home now, crouching low with
her hands between her knees, her head thrown back and resting against
the wall behind. What was the good of getting up or going to bed now?
When she was thoroughly exhausted she threw herself, dressed, upon her
bed. Otherwise she remained in the same position, chilled and benumbed;
in her quiescent state, only her teeth chattered with the cold; she had
that continual impression of a band of iron round her brows; her cheeks
looked wasted; her mouth was dry, with a feverish taste, and at times
a painful hoarse cry rose from her throat, and was repeated in spasms,
while her head beat backward against the granite wall. Or else she
called Yann by his name in a low, tender voice, as if he were quiet
close to her, whispering words of love to her.

Sometimes she occupied her brain with thoughts of quite insignificant
things; for instance, she amused herself by watching the shadow of the
china Virgin lengthen slowly over the high woodwork of the bed, as the
sun went down. And then the agonized thoughts returned more horrible,
and her wailing cry broke out again as she beat her head against the
wall.

All the hours of the day passed, and all the hours of evening, and of
night, and then the hours of the morning. When she reckoned the time he
ought to have been back, she was seized with a still greater terror; she
wished to forget all dates and the very names of the days.

Usually there is some information concerning the wrecks off Iceland;
those who return have seen the tragedy from afar, or else have found
some wreckage or bodies, or have an indication to guess the rest. But
of the _Leopoldine_ nothing had been seen, and nothing was known. The
_Marie-Jeanne_ men, the last to have seen her, on the 2d of August, said
that she was to have gone on fishing farther towards the north, and,
beyond that, the secret was unfathomable.

Waiting, always waiting, and knowing nothing! When would the time come
when she need wait no longer? She did not even know that; and, now, she
almost wished that it might be soon.

Oh! if he were dead; let them at least have pity enough to tell her so!
Oh! to see