little move to sit up, and as she put out her arm to steady herself the metal chain of her handbag clinked just the faintest little bit against the iron pipe of the low fence that surrounded the neighboring grave. Instantly everything was silent among the group of men, the dark figures as if they had been but shadows crouched out of sight, only the alert head and shoulders of one showed dimly against the luminous spot in the sky. She could feel that their eyes were focused upon her as if they had been spotlights out of the darkness. She did not dare to move even to relax her fingers which had been stretched to grasp the iron rail. Her breath was suspended midway, and in the whole wide, peaceful acre the air seemed tense as though the very dead were waiting with her for the outcome. “Oh, God!” she prayed, “Oh, God! Help me now!” It was the first time since Aunt Mary’s death that she felt herself to have really prayed. Somehow her heart had seemed stunned since the funeral, and when she said[36] the words of prayer with her lips there had been such empty ache in her heart that they had not seemed to mean anything. Now in her great need she had the distinct realization of crying out to a God upon whom she relied and whom her faith of the years had tested. And just as distinctly she felt the surety that He was there. He had answered. [36] It was as if that cry for help was a surrender, a committing of her way to Him. As if she had said: “Here am I. I am yours. However right or wrong I may have been to have put myself into this situation I am here and helpless. If I am worth anything at all to you save me for I cannot save myself. I am giving my future into your hands.” Of course there was no such logical sequence of thought or word in the swift flash of her appeal, but afterwards she was aware it had been a commitment and a covenant. As if an answer of assurance had come a calm came upon her. Her breath moved on, her heart beat naturally. The tensity of the air seemed gone. The dark shadows by the pile of dirt stirred. A low murmur passed among them. They moved and came upright again. Their eyes ceased to pierce her like spot lights. They moved with ease and took up their shovels. One even laughed in a low, half nervous tone. Only one still stood and watched, his attitude alert, not satisfied that the danger was passed. He murmured a low warning. “Aw! What’s eatin’ ye?” another replied jocularly. “D’ye think the dead
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