that are broken, and I have healed them; but Thou hast denied me
power over such ills as these; so must I let this poor woman die."

For the first time now the deep marks of illness upon the mother's
face appeared to husband and children as more than the passing
traces of suffering, as imprints from the hand of death. The
hard-drawn breath rattling in her throat no longer betokened
conscious pain, but was the last blind remonstrance of the body rent
by nearing dissolution.

"You do not think she will die before the cure comes back?" Maria
asked.

Tit'Sebe's head and hand showed that he was helpless to answer. "I
cannot tell ... If your horse is able you would do well to seek
him with the daylight."

Their eyes searched the window, as yet only a square of darkness,
and then returned to her who lay upon the bed ... But five days
ago a hearty, high-spirited woman, in full health of mind and body
... It could not be that she was to die so soon as that. ... But
knowing now the sad inevitableness, every glance found a subtle
change, some fresh token that this bed-ridden woman groaning in her
blindness was no more the wife and mother they had known so long.

Half an hour went by; after casting his eyes toward the window
Chapdelaine arose hurriedly, saying.--" I am going to put the
horse in."

Tit'Sebe nodded. "That is well; you had better harness; it is near