think we have walked, Dosia?"

"It seems so endless, I can't tell; but we must be nearly at Haledon,"
said Dosia. "Let's sit down and rest awhile here. Oh, Lois, Lois
_dear_!" She had taken off her jacket and spread it on the damp grass
for them both to sit on, huddled close together, and now pressed the
older woman's head down on her shoulder, holding both mother and child
in her young arms.

Lois lay there without stirring. Far off in the stillness, there came
the murmur of the brook they had passed in the train--so long since, it
seemed! The moon hung high above now, pouring a flood of light down
through the arching branches of the trees upon her beautiful face with
its closed eyes, and the tiny features of the sleeping child. Something
in the utter relaxation of the attitude and manner began to alarm the
girl.

"Lois, we must go on," she said, with an anxious note in her voice.
"Lois! You mustn't give up. We can't stay here!"

"Yes, I know," said Lois. She struggled to her feet, and began to walk
ahead slowly. Dosia, behind her, flung out her arms to the
shadow-embroidered road over which they had just passed.

"Oh, why _don't_ you come!" she whispered again intensely, with
passionate reproach; and then, swiftly catching up with Lois, took the
child from her, and again they stumbled on together, haltingly, to the
accompaniment of that far-off brook.

The wire fencing ceased, but the road became narrower, the walls of
trees darker, closer together, though the soil underfoot grew firmer.
They had to stop every few minutes to rest. Lois saw ever before her the
one objective point--a dimly lighted room, with Justin stretched out
upon the bed, dying, while she could not get there.

"Hark!" said Dosia suddenly, standing still. The sound of a voice
trolling drunkenly made itself heard, came nearer, while the women stood
terrified. The thing they had both unspeakably dreaded had happened; the
moonlight brought into view the unmistakable figure of a tramp, with a
bundle swung upon his shoulder. No terror of the future could compare
with this one, that neared them with the seconds, swaying unsteadily
from side to side of the road, as the tipsy voice alternately muttered
and roared the reiterated words:

For I have come from Pad-dy land,
The land--I do adore!

They had fled, crouching into the bushes at the edge of the path, and he
passed with his eyes on the ground, or he must have seen--a blotched,
dark-v