But those
strangers appeared not to stand in the hollow depth between the three
hills. Their voices were encompassed and re-echoed by the walls of a
chamber the windows of which were rattling in the breeze; the regular
vibration of a clock, the crackling of a fire and the tinkling of the
embers as they fell among the ashes rendered the scene almost as vivid
as if painted to the eye. By a melancholy hearth sat these two old
people, the man calmly despondent, the woman querulous and tearful,
and their words were all of sorrow. They spoke of a daughter, a
wanderer they knew not where, bearing dishonor along with her and
leaving shame and affliction to bring their gray heads to the grave.
They alluded also to other and more recent woe, but in the midst of
their talk their voices seemed to melt into the sound of the wind
sweeping mournfully among the autumn leaves; and when the lady lifted
her eyes, there was she kneeling in the hollow between three hills.
"A weary and lonesome time yonder old couple have of it," remarked the
old woman, smiling in the lady's face.
"And did you also hear them?" exclaimed she, a sense of intolerable
humiliation triumphing over her agony and fear.
"Yea, and we have yet more to hear," replied the old woman, "wherefore
cover thy face quickly."
Again the withered hag poured forth the monotonous words of a prayer
that was not meant to be acceptable in heaven, and soon in the pauses
of her breath strange murmurings began to thicken, gradually
increasing, so as to drown and overpower the charm by which they grew.
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