They seem happy; and élléasandMéyet nobody knows what may be--....
They think themselves in safety.... They have shut the doors; and the windows have iron bars.... They have mended the walls of the old house; they have put bolts upon the oaken doors.... They have foreseen all that could be foreseen....
We must end by telling them.... Some one might come and let them know abruptly.... There was a crowd of peasants in the meadow where the dead girl was found.... If one of them knocked at the door...
Martha and Mary are beside the poor dead child. The peasants were to make a litter of leaves; and I told the elder to come warn us in all haste, the moment they began their march. Let us wait till she comes; she will go in with me.... We should not have looked on them so.... I thought it would be only to knock upon the door; to go in simply, find a phrase or two, and tell.... But I have seen them live too long under their lamp....
I told them to pray in a low voice. Martha is with them....
The whole village is about the bearers. They had brought lights. I told them to put them out....
They are coming by the footpaths. They are walking slowly....
You see plainly we have told them nothing.... They are waiting still under the lamp.... Look, my child, look! You will see something of life....
Oh, how at peace they seem!... You would say I saw them in a dream....
Take care, I saw both sisters give a start....
I think they are coming to the windows....
[At this moment, one of the two sisters of whom they speak draws near the first window, the other near the third, and, pressing their hands at the same time against the panes, look a long while into the darkness.]
No one comes to the window in the middle....
They are looking.... They are listening....
The elder smiles at what she does not see.
And the other has eyes full of fearfulness....
Take care; we do not know how far the soul extends about men....
[_A long silence_, MARY _cowers against the old man's breast and kisses him._]
Do not weep, my child.... We shall have our turn.... [_A silence._
They might look a hundred thousand years and not perceive anything, the poor little sisters.... The night is too dark.... They are looking this way; and it is from that way the misfortune is coming....