In no time out to-night. And yet to-morrow

They will come budding boughs from tree to tree
Flirting their wings and saying Chicadee,

As if not knowing what you meant by the word storm."

"But why, when no one wants you to go on?
Your wife-she doesn't want you to. We don't,
And you yourself don't want to. Who else is there?"

"Save us from being cornered by a woman!
Well, there's"-She told Fred afterward that in
The pause right there, she thought the dreaded word
Was coming, "God." But no, he only said,

"Well, there's the storm. That says I must go on.
That wants me as a war might if it came.

Ask any man.'

He threw her that as something

To last her till he got outside the door.

He had Cole with him to the barn to see him off.

When Cole returned he found his wife still standing
Beside the table near the open book,

Not reading it.

Do you call that?" she said.

"Well, what kind of a man

"He had the gift

Of words, or is it tongues I ought to say?"

"Was ever such a man for seeing likeness?"

Snow

"Or disregarding people's civil questions

What? We've found out in one hour more about him
Than we had seeing him pass by in the road

A thousand times. If that's the way he preaches!
You didn't think you'd keep him after all.
Oh, I'm not blaming you. He didn't leave you
Much say in the matter, and I'm just as glad
We're not in for a night of him. No sleep
If he had stayed. The least thing set him going.
It's quiet as an empty church without him."

"But how much better off are we as it is? We'll have to sit here till we know he's safe."

"Yes, I suppose you'll want to, but I shouldn't.
He knows what he can do, or he wouldn't try.
Get into bed I say, and get some rest.

He won't come back, and if he telephones,
It won't be for an hour or two."

"Well then

We can't be any help by sitting here

And living his fight through with him, I suppose."

Cole had been telephoning in the dark.

Mrs. Cole's voice came from an inner room: "Did she call you or you call her?"

Snow

"She me.

You'd better dress-you won't go back to bed.
We must have been asleep-it's three and after."

"Had she been ringing long? I'll get my wrapper-
I want to speak to her."

"All she said was, He hadn't come, and had he really started."

"She knew he had, poor thing, two hours ago.' "He had the shovel. He'll have made a fight." "Why did I ever let him leave this house!"

"Don't begin that. You did the best you could
To keep him-though perhaps you didn't quite
Conceal a wish to see him show the spunk
To disobey you. Much his wife'll thank you."

"Fred, after all I said! You shan't make out
That it was any way but what it was.

Did she let on by any word she said
She didn't thank me?"

"When I told her 'Gone,'

'Well, then,' she said, and 'Well then'-like a threat. And then her voice came scraping slow: 'Oh, you, Why did you let him go?'"

"Asked why we let him? You let me there. I'll ask her why she let him.

She didn't dare to speak when he was here.
Their number's-twenty-one? The thing won't work.
Someone's receiver's down. The handle stumbles.
The stubborn thing, the way it jars your arm!

It's theirs. She's dropped it from her hand and gone."

"Try speaking. Say, 'Hello.'"

"What do you hear?"

"Hello, hello."

"I hear an empty room-
You know-it sounds that way. And yes, I hear-
I think I hear a clock-and windows rattling.
No step though. If she's there she's sitting down."

"Shout, she may hear you."

"Keep speaking then."

"Shouting is no good."

"Hello. Hello. Hello.

You don't suppose-? She wouldn't go out-doors?"

"I'm half afraid that's just what she might do."

"And leave the children?"

"Wait and call again.

You can't hear whether she has left the door

Wide open, and the wind's blown out the lamp,

And the fire's died, and the room's dark and cold?"

"One of two things, either she's gone to bed

Or gone out-doors."

"In which case both are lost.

Do you know what she's like? Have you ever met her?

It's strange she doesn't want to speak to us."

"Fred, see if you can hear what I hear. Come."

"A clock, maybe."

Snow

"Don't you hear something else?"

"Not talking."

"No."

"Why, yes, I hear-what is it?"

"What do you say it is?"

"A baby's crying!"

"Frantic it sounds though muffled and far off."

"Its mother wouldn't let it cry like that,

Not if she's there."

"What do you make of it?"

"There's only one thing possible to makeThat is, assuming that she has gone out.

Of course she hasn't, though."

They both sat down

Helpless. "There's nothing we can do till morning."

"Fred, I shan't let you think of going out."

"Hold on." The double bell began to chirp. They started up. Fred took the telephone.