eard herself saying the
words as if they proceeded from the lips of a stranger.

"Has Doris come?"

"Not yet. She will be here soon."

"I can trust you and Doris. Doris knows. And now--I let go!"

Where had Sister Angela heard those words before? They went whirling
through her brain as if on a mighty wheel.

"I have--let go!"

Then followed terrible hours in the guest chamber with Sister Constance
repeating over and over: "It is a perfectly plain case. All is well."

Finally, there was quiet, and then that cry that has power to move the
world's heart, a plaintive wail weighted with relinquishment
and--acceptance. Meredith's little daughter was born just as the clock
below chimed four.

"I will take it to the west wing," Constance said. "Call me if you need
me."

But everything seemed settling into calm, and Meredith fell asleep
looking as she used to look in the old days before she had been forced
outside the gates. At daylight she opened her eyes.

"Is it morning?" she asked of Sister Angela who sat beside her.

"Yes, dear heart."

"Raise the shade, Sister." Then, as Angela raised it--"Why, how strange!
What is that, Sister?"

Angela looked and saw The Ship! In that hour when vitality runs low and
with the past horrors of the night still holding her, all the
superstition of The Gap claimed her.

"I--I was afraid I would lose the ship." Meredith's mind wandered back
to her hurried home-leaving; the dread that the ship that was to bear
her from the Philippines might have gone. The mystic Ship upon The Rock
was all that was needed to fix her fancy.

"But--I was in time. I _am_ in time. The Ship--is waiting. Everything is
all right now!--quite all right, Sister?"

Angela went close to the bed.

"My dear one!" she whispered and slipped her arm under Meredith's head.

"It all seems so--plain in the morning, Sister. It is the night that
makes us afraid. The night! I cannot remember--what it was--I dreamed."

"Never mind, little girl"--Angela's tears were dropping on the soft,
smooth hair that was growing clammy; she felt the cold breath on her
face--"never mind, little girl, the dream is past."

"Sister, it was a bad dream. I do not like bad dreams--tell Doris--what
is it that I want you to tell Doris?"

"Try to sleep, beloved." Angela knelt.

Meredith slipped back to her childhood--she gave a short, hurting laugh.
"Tell her--tell Doris--I did try to learn my lesson--but----"

It was the opening