"That is what he said," answered the Irishwoman.
"What will the Deemers do?" cried Mary Bowman. "And the Wilsons?"
"God knows!" said Hannah Casey.
Suddenly Mary Bowman lifted her hands above her head.
"Look!" she screamed.
"What?" cried Hannah Casey. "What is it?"
Mary Bowman went backwards toward the door, her eyes still fixed on the distant ridge, as though they could not be torn away. It was nine o'clock; a shrill little clock in the house struck the hour.
"Children!" called Mary Bowman. "Come! See!"
The children dropped the little sticks with which they played and ran to her.
"What is it?" whined Hannah Casey.