Becky swayed back and forth and moaned softly as one does who has emptied his soul and waits. Sister Angela got up and bent over the old woman, her thin white hand on the crouching back. "When did this happen?" she asked. "Mos' a year back!" "And you have only come now to tell me? Why did you wait?" "Twasn't no use coming before--but now, I 'low she's coming back, same as all us does, after the larnin'! I had a vision las' night--and this morning--I saw The Ship on the Rock--she'll come!" Again the old woman's eyes were lifted and she peered into the depths of the fire. "I seed Zalie las' night! She come with hit." "With what?" Sister Angela had that peculiar pricking sensation of the skin caused by tense nerves. "With hit. Her young-un! That's what larnin' means to us-all. Hit! After that, nothin' counts one way or 'other. Zalie spoke in her vision--clear like she was in the flesh. She don made me understand that I mus' give hit a chance; break the curse--there is only one way!" "What way, Becky?" Angela was whispering as if she and the old woman near her were conspiring together. "Hit mus' go where no one knows--no one ever can know. It's the knowin' that damns us-all. Folks knowin' an' expectin'--an' helpin' the curse. Hit's got to start fresh an' no one knowin'." Becky's voice was sepulchral. "You mean," Angela asked, "that if Zalie comes back with a child that you want me to take it, find a home for it--where no one will ever know?" "You-all don promised to help me," Becky pleaded, for she caught the doubting tone in Angela's voice; "you-all ain't goin' back on that, air yo'?" The burning eyes fell upon the cross at Angela's side. "No," she said. "No. Becky, I promise to help you. But suppose Zalie, should she have a child, refused to give it up?" Becky's face quivered. "She won't las', Zalie won't." The stricken voice was as confident as if Zalie already lay dead. "Zalie ain't got stayin' powers, she ain't. She don have fever an' what-all--an' she won't las' long--she'll go on The Ship! But if you-all hide hit--so The Ship can't take hit--if you-all give hit hit's chance--then the curse will be broke." There was pleading, renunciation, and command in the guttural voice: "Becky, I will promise to help you. If there is a child and you renounce all claim to it, I will find a home for it. It shall have its chance. And now sit here and rest--I am going to bring some food to you." Sister Angela arose and passed from the room. The doing of the kindly, commonplace thing restored her to her usual calm. She was not gone long, but when she returned, bearing the tray, Becky had departed and the chair in which she had sat was still swaying. CHAPTER III "_I brushed all obstructions from my doorsill and stepped into the road._" It was just after sunset the following day when Jed turned from the Big Road into the River Road and thanked God that the next five miles could be made before early darkness set in.