caps and breastplates, carrying their tasselled halberds on their
shoulders. An officer's voice gave sharp commands. The gust that had
brought the rain had passed by, and a drizzling mist, caused by a sudden
chill, now completely obscured the window.

"Can you see anything?" asked Inez suddenly, in a low voice. "I think I
hear trumpets far away."

"I cannot see--there is mist on the glass, too. Do you hear the trumpets
clearly?"

"I think I do. Yes--I hear them clearly now." She stopped. "He is
coming," she added under her breath.

Dolores listened, but she had not the almost supernatural hearing of the
blind, and could distinguish nothing but the tramping of the soldiers
below, and her sister's irregular breathing beside her, as Inez held her
breath again and again in order to catch the very faint and distant
sound.

"Open the window," she said almost sharply, "I know I hear the
trumpets."

Her delicate fingers felt for the bolts with almost feverish anxiety.
Dolores helped her and opened the window wide. A strain of distant
clarions sounding a triumphant march came floating across the wet city.
Dolores started, and her face grew radiant, while her fresh lips opened
a little as if to drink in the sound with the wintry air. Beside her,
Inez grew slowly pale and held herself by the edge of the window frame,
gripping it hard, and neither of the two girls felt any sensation of