Then Genefer left. It was not possible for her to tarry longer with Mirelle. There was much that had to be done: the supper things to be removed and washed up, some kindling to be got ready for the fire next morning; the kitchen fire to be put out, and a little tidying to be done in the parlour and the hall. Genefer would have enough to do next morning, getting breakfast ready, and she would leave nothing till then that she could possibly get done that night. Whilst she was in the dining-room clearing away the supper things, she looked hard at the pastille portrait. ’Whatever did the old man mean by walking, and standing in the doorway with that warning gesture?’ She stood in front of the picture for some time, trying to decipher something in it which escaped her. At last, hopeless of discovering what she sought, she resumed her work. ’There, there!’ she said, ’I’ve been wasting the one bit of candle I have, and her’ll hardly last me out all I have to do. Whatever be hidden now from me, the day will bring forth.’ After the old woman had finished the washing-up in the kitchen and had extinguished that fire and raked out the fire in the parlour, she went into the hall, which was littered with packages, boxes, trunks, cloaks, and calashes. Genefer disliked disorder, and she set to work putting the sundry articles into some sort of order, though the next day all would again be removed to the carriage for the continuation of the return journey to Welltown. ’I wonder what time of night it be!’ she said, as she looked up at the clock. ’Twelve! But no, sure it cannot be. Her’s not ticking. Her’s standing still. To be sure, her’s not been wounded up for ever so long. Loramussy! the candle will never last me out. I shall have to go to bed in the dark, and that ain’t pleasant where there be spirits of dead men walking. But’—she shook herself—’is that seemly of thee, Genefer Benoke, to be afeared of spirits? The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life, of whom shall I be afraid?’ Genefer’s confidence was somewhat shaken by hearing a door opened, and by seeing a white figure on the stairs, slowly descending. ’Lord, mistress!’ she said, after she had recovered from the first shock of alarm, when she recognised Mirelle; ’sure enough you did give me a turn.’ Mirelle was in her long white nightdress, her dark hair was unbound, and fell over her shoulders. The white, delicate feet were bare. ’What be the matter, darling?’ Mirelle took each step on the stair hesitatingly, with foot poised before her, as though feeling in the air, before she lowered it. She descended in this way very leisurely, as one walking in a dream, or one blind, groping the way in an unknown place. Her hand was on the banister, and the bar trembled. She reached the landing, and stood under the clock. She made no attempt to descend farther. ’Oh, Geneviève, the fire is gone out.’