"Stay here," she resumed, "while I go back to my work.

I will see that your clothes are dried.

You shall wear my clothes as short a time as possible." With those melancholy words--touchingly, not bitterly spoken--she moved to pass into the kitchen, when she noticed that the pattering sound of the rain against the window was audible no more.

Dropping the canvas for the moment, she retraced her steps, and, unfastening the wooden shutter, looked out.
The moon was rising dimly in the watery sky; the rain had ceased; the friendly darkness which had hidden the French position from the German scouts was lessening every moment.

In a few hours more (if nothing happened) the English lady might resume her journey.