Bebee, only, lay quite still and never spoke. The starling sat above her
head; his wings drooped, and he was silent too.
Towards sunset Bebee raised herself and called aloud: they ran to her.
"Get me a rosebud--one with the moss round it," she said to them.
They went out into the garden, and brought her one wet with dew.
She kissed it, and laid it in one of her little wooden shoes that stood
upon the bed.
"Send them to him," she said wearily; "tell him I walked all the way."
Then her head drooped; then momentary consciousness died out: the old
dull lifeless look crept over her face again like the shadow of death.
The starling spread his broad black wings above her head. She lay quite
still once more. The women left the rosebud in the wooden shoe, not
knowing what she meant.
Night fell. Mere Krebs watched beside her. Jeannot went down to the old
church to beseech heaven with all his simple, ignorant, tortured soul.
The villagers hovered about, talking in low sad voices, and wondering,
and dropping one by one into their homes. They were sorry, very sorry;
but what could they do?
It was quite night.
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