All were silent, made the sign of the cross, and bowed. It seemed as if several sonorous waves, scarcely perceptible, arrived from the distant market-town; but the child's wail filled every listener's ear. Once more, only this single wail could be heard. The mother had fallen on her knees at the foot of the cradle, prostrated to the earth. Hippolyte, her head bowed, was praying with fervor.
"Look, there, in the doorway!" whispered one of the women to her neighbor.
George, watchful and uneasy, turned his head. The doorway was full of shadow.
"Look, there, in the doorway! Don't you see something?"
"Yes, I see," replied the other, uncertain, a little frightened.
"What is it? What do you see?" asked a third.
"What is it?" demanded a fourth.
"What is it?"
Suddenly curiosity and fright seized them all. They looked toward the door. The child cried. The mother rose, and she, too, began to fix her dilated eyes on the door which the shadows rendered mysterious. The dog barked among the olive-trees.
"What is it?" said George, in a low voice, but not without requiring some effort to shake off the increasing uneasiness of his imagination. "What do you see?"