After the good Priest had disappeared down the narrow path that led to the little village of San Domingo, she sat, for a long time, in deep revery, reflecting on the peace and prosperity that then covered the tropical Island upon which she had lived for so many years and trying to imagine what changes were likely to come in the wake of the probable conflict of two great nations, for Ruth realized that America was meeting a foe worthy of her steel in Spain whose far-famed Armada had been made the subject of song and story; she had no doubt of the final outcome ... whatever America attempted, that she would accomplish ... but how many splendid American men would have to lie upon the bloody battle-fields that would spring up all around her was yet an unsolved problem; and that, she thought, proudly and devotedly, would be her work ... to find those splendid American heroes, and to do for them as much as if each one of them had been her own blood brother ... to succor the wounded and bury the dead. This line of thought led her, inevitably, to the grave already lying under the moonlight so near to her home, and, upon a sudden and almost irresistable impulse, she snatched a wrap from the rack in the hall and started down toward the little cemetery, thinking to bid an eternal farewell to the grave of the man who had been, if only for a few short months, her husband. CHAPTER XIII Ruth descended the hill with firm, sure steps for she was strong in body as well as in spirit; she had reached the gate of the little cemetery before the impulse that had prompted her action had had time to lose any of its power, but, as she opened the gate and realized the lateness of the hour, her natural caution led her to pause for a second and take in her surroundings; she at once became conscious of the sound of a low, sobbing voice saying: "Dear God, I came here all alone hoping that You would forgive him for the crime that he committed if I came to you in secret beside the grave of him whose life he took ... the sin is lying heavily upon his soul and I wish to lift it from him by sacrificing my own peace of mind so that it may be bestowed upon him, for he suffers grievously from his wound, dear God, he suffers very grievously.... I pray that You will put the sorrow for his crime upon me instead of him so that I may help him, for he is greatly in need of more help than I can give him, being but a simple-minded, feeble, little peasant and unfit to carry this heavy load." The supplication ended in a rush of sobs that shook the inner consciousness of her who listened to them, for Ruth was tender-hearted above all her other instincts; she advanced into the little cemetery, then, with far different feelings than the ones that brought her there.