It was towards the close of the day when Mary set out with her little bundle under her arm, and began to climb up the mountain, following the narrow road to the woods. She wished before leaving the neighbourhood to visit her father's grave once more. When she came out of the forest the village clock struck seven, and before she arrived at the graveyard it was nearly dark; but she was not afraid, and went up to her father's grave, where she sat down and gave way to a burst of grief. The full moon was shining through the trees, illumining with a silver light the roses on the grave and the basket of flowers. The soft evening breeze murmured among the branches, making the rose trees planted on her father's grave tremble. "Oh, my father," cried Mary, "would that you were still here, that I might pour my trouble into your ears! But yet I know that it is better that you are gone, and I thank the Lord that you did not live to witness this last affliction. You are now happy, and beyond the reach of grief. Oh, that I were with you! Alas, never have I been so much to be pitied as now. When the moon shone into the prison which confined me you were then alive; when I was driven from the home which I loved so much you were left me. I had in you a good father and protector and faithful friend. Now I have no one. Poor, forsaken, suspected of crime, I am alone in the world, a stranger, not knowing where to lay my head. The only little corner that remained to me on the earth I am driven from, and now I shall no longer have the consolation of coming here to weep by your grave!" At these words the tears rushed forth afresh. "Alas," said she, "I dare not at this hour beg a lodging for the night. Indeed, if I tell why I was turned out of doors, no one perhaps will consent to receive me." She looked around. Against the wall, near her father's tomb, was a gravestone, very old and covered with moss. As the inscription had been effaced by time, it was left there to be used as a seat. "I will sit down on this stone," said she, "and pass the night by my father's grave. It is perhaps the last time I shall ever be here. To-morrow at daybreak, if it be God's will, I shall continue my journey, going wherever His hand may direct me." CHAPTER XIV. A STRANGE MEETING. Mary sat down on the stone near the wall shaded by the thick foliage of a tree which covered her with its dark branches. Here she poured out her soul in fervent prayer to God. Suddenly she heard a sweet voice calling her familiarly by her name, "Mary, Mary!" The late hour of night and the solitude of the graveyard and her loneliness made Mary start with fear. Looking up she saw the beautiful face and figure of a woman, dressed in a long flowing robe. Frightened and trembling, Mary was about to fly. [Illustration: "Looking up she saw the beautiful face and figure of a woman." _See page 104._]