On the morning of Margaret's funeral she could be seen, pale and haggard, tottering toward the grave-yard.

The simple peasants recoiled before the ghastly figure, which, tall and trembling, with a black gown and death-white face, passed among them like a spectre.
Before she reached the church she fell senseless to the ground.

The humanity of those who observed her triumphed over their fears, and they bore her to a newly finished house hard by.
This was all the missionary could glean from his guide, as they walked swiftly toward the shed pointed out by the peasant.
They found her lying motionless upon a bed in a corner of the room.

As they entered, she opened her eyes, and, after keenly scanning the Lord of Hers, raised herself with difficulty upon her arm.

Father Omehr started.