And bit by bit she began to tell me of the dreary days when they waited for
news of me, and hope grew sick in them, but they would not let it die.

"Your mother was an angel and a saint, and a strong tower, Phil,--so sweet
and good. How she made me long for a mother of my own!"

"You shall have a share of mine!"

"I've made sure of my share already. It made the ache easier just to be
with her, and so I went often to Belfontaine, and she never failed me. She
was always full of hope and confidence. 'He will come back to us, my dear,'
she would say. 'And when we get him back we must try to keep him, though
that is not easy in Sercq.'"

"But you know why I went, Carette."

"Don't go again, Phil. It is very hard on the women to have their men-folk
go. All the fear and the heartache are ours."

"But it is for you we go--to win what we can for you."

"Ah, what is it all worth?--Just nothing at all. It's not what you bring in
your hands, but what is in your hearts for us, Phil. Better a cottage on
Sercq with our hearts together like this,"--and I could feel her sweet
heart beating through as she nestled up against me with my right arm round
her neck,--than all the plunder of Herm."

"Then I will never leave you again, my sweet," and I sealed that pledge in
kisses. "But how we are to live--"