September had passed. The sorrowing wife took scarcely anynourishment, and could no longer sleep. She remained at home now,crouching low with her hands between her knees, her head thrown backand resting against the wall behind. What was the good of getting up orgoing to bed now? When she was thoroughly exhausted she threw herself,dressed, upon her bed. Otherwise she remained in the same position,chilled and benumbed; in her quiescent state, only her teeth chattered withthe cold; she had that continual impression of a band of iron round herbrows; her cheeks looked wasted; her mouth was dry, with a feverish taste,and at times a painful hoarse cry rose from her throat, and was repeated in spasms, while her head beat backward against the granite wall. Or else shecalled Yann by his name in a low, tender voice, as if he were quiet close toher, whispering words of love to her.

　　Sometimes she occupied her brain with thoughts of quite insignificantthings; for instance, she amused herself by watching the shadow of thechina Virgin lengthen slowly over the high woodwork of the bed, as thesun went down. And then the agonized thoughts returned more horrible,and her wailing cry broke out again as she beat her head against the wall.

　　All the hours of the day passed, and all the hours of evening, and ofnight, and then the hours of the morning. When she reckoned the time heought to have been back, she was seized with a still greater terror; shewished to forget all dates and the very names of the days.

　　Usually there is some information concerning the wrecks off Iceland;those who return have seen the tragedy from afar,............