The woman's intuition saw in a flash the hideous tragedy. With a cry of anguish she threw her arms around her husband's neck, sobbing.
"Oh, John, John, my man, I told ye not to talk—but ye would tell folks what ye believed. Why couldn't ye be still? Oh, my God, my God, it's come to this!"
The man soothed her with tender touch.
"Hush, Mother, hush. You mustn't take on."
"I can't help it—I just can't. God have mercy on my poor lost soul—"
She paused and looked at her boys.
With a scream she threw herself first on one and then on the other.
"Oh, my big fine boy! I can't let you go! Where is God to-night? Is He dead? Has He forgotten me?"
The father drew her away and shook her sternly.
"Hush, Mother, hush! Yer can't show the white feather like this!"