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became gradually deeper and more regular,
and the restless hands lay there quite still.
The nun looked on in silent wonder.
“It is the first sleep he has had since he
came,” said she.
The Doctor sat at his side for a long while,
not daring to move lest he should wake him.
Josephine had come back, and he sat there
watching her busy at work with the dead boy.
She washed his body clean from blood and
mud and put a clean sheet under him. She
dressed him in one of her own son’s shirts she
had evidently gone home to fetch; put a
crucifix in his joined hands; lit a candle at
the foot of his bed and laid a little bunch of
flowers at his head.
“I am sure his mother would like me to do
it,” explained Josephine.
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