urging that the children and women be sent out of the way of balls.

Father Robineau, on his part, gave instant command to the miller's
wife, and she climbed the stairs again, heading a long line of
distressed neighbors.

The burrs were in the second story, and here the roaring of the mill
took possession of all the shuddering air. Every massive joist half
growing from dimness overhead was hung with ghostly shreds of cobweb;
and on the grayish whiteness of the floor the children's naked soles
cut out oblongs dotted with toe-marks.

Mother Sandeau made her way first to an inclosed corner, and looked
around to invite the attention of her followers. Such violence had
been done to her stolid habits that she seemed to need the sight of
her milk-room to restore her to intelligent action. The group was
left in half darkness while she thrust her candle into the milk-room,
showing its orderly array of flowered bowls amidst moist coolness.
Here was a promise of sustenance to people dependent for the next
mouthful of food. "It will last a few days, even if the cows be driven
off and killed!" said the miller's good wife.

But there was the Acadian lady to be first thought of. Neighbors could
be easily spread out on the great floor, with rolls of bedding. Her
own oasis of homestead stood open, showing a small fireplace hollowed
in one wall, two feet above the floor; table and heavy chairs; and
sleeping rooms beyond. Yet none of these things were good enough to
offer such a stranger.

"Take no thought about me, good friend," said the girl, noticing