Again the bell sounded. The hurrying people stopped again in the street, and waved their hands wildly, and cried,—
“Haste, haste, good men, all, good women, all. The hour is near. Good men, all, good women, all, hurry!”
OLD PEASANT COSTUMES.
It was night now; but the full moon rose over the long line of hills, and behind it appeared a black cloud, from which darted tongues of red flame, followed by mutterings of thunder.
The moon ascended the clear sky like a chariot, and the cloud seemed to follow her like an army,—an awful spectacle that riveted Lek’s gaze and made him apprehensive.
“A storm is coming,” he said. “I must stay here. Tell me, good maiden, where can I find food and shelter?”
“I have a true heart. I have always been true to myself; and he who is true to himself is never unfaithful to God or his fellow-men.”