In the storm of the 4th and 5th of August, 1880
She read mechanically under the arch of the doorway; her eyes sought to
pierce the distance over the sea. That morning it was untraceable
under the gray mist, and a dragging drapery of clouds overhung the
horizon like a mourning veil.
Another gust of wind, and other leaves danced in whirls. A stronger
gust still; as if the western storm which had strewn those dead over
the sea wished to deface the very inscriptions which kept their names
in memory with the living.
Gaud looked with involuntary persistency at an empty space upon the
wall which seemed to yawn expectant. By a terrible impression, she was
pursued by the thought of a fresh slab which might soon perhaps be
placed there,--with another name which she did not even dare think of
in such a spot.
She felt cold, and remained seated on the granite bench, her head
reclining against the stone wall.