This one window was protected by the remains of iron-work outside, and the whole figure of one female saint in colored glass survived.
This expedient broke the devilish blackness, and the saint shone out glorious.
The horrid spell thus broken in some degree, Henry plied his hammer, and made the church ring, and the flaming metal fly.
But by-and-by, as often happened to him now, a drowsiness overcame him at the wrong time.

In vain he battled against it.

It conquered him even as he worked; and, at last, he leaned with his arms against the handle of the bellows, and dozed as he stood.
He had a dream of that kind which we call a vision, because the dream seems to come to the dreamer where he is.
He dreamed he was there at his forge, and a soft voice called to him.
He turned, and lo! between him and the western window stood six female figures, all dressed in beautiful dresses, but of another age, and of many colors, yet transparent; and their faces fair, but white as snow: and the ladies courtesied to him, with a certain respectful majesty beyond description: and, somehow, by their faces, and their way of courtesying to him, he knew they were women of his own race, and themselves aware of the relationship.
Then several more such figures came rustling softly through the wall from the churchyard, and others rose from the vaults and took their places quietly, till there was an avenue of dead beauties; and they stood in an ascending line up to the west window.

Some stood on the ground, some on the air; that made no difference to them.
Another moment, and then a figure more lovely than them all shone in the window, at the end of that vista of fair white faces.
It was Grace Carden.

She smiled on him and said, "I am going where I can love you.