And in that light stood a Vision.

Bathed in the rays of the moon, swathed in shimmering azure stood a Mother with her Child. Behind her head glowed a luminous silver circle.

Ah! Well did Mireille know her! Well did Mireille remember her. All fear was gone, all darkness swept away in the rapture of that dazzling presence.

Mireille stretched out her clasped hands towards that effulgent vision.

What were the words of greeting she must say? She knew them well ...

they were rising in her throat.... What were they? What were they?

She wrung her clasped hands, with a spasm in her throat, but the words would not come. She knew them. They seemed to burst open like flowers of light in her brain, to peal like the notes of an organ in her soul, yet her lips were locked and could not frame them.

The vision moved, seemed to waver and tremble.... Ah! Would she fade away and vanish and be lost? Would Mireille fall back again into eternal silence and darkness?

Something seemed to break in Mireille's throat. A cry--a cry, thrilling and articulate--escaped her. The sealed fountain of her voice was opened and the words of the immortal salutation gushed from her lips:

"_Ave Maria!..._"

Did not the shimmering figure smile and move towards her with extended hand?... Fainting with ecstasy, Mireille sank at her feet.

Louise had started from her sleep at the sound of a cry.... Whose voice had uttered it?

Though the room was dark, she felt that it was empty; she knew that Mireille was not there. Yes, the door was open, showing a pale glimmer of light.

Swift as an arrow Louise sped down the stairs, then--on the landing of the last flight--she stopped, dazzled and spell-bound by what she saw before her.

There in the moonlight stood the eternal vision of Maternity; and before it knelt Mireille.

And Mireille was speaking.

"_Benedicta tu...._"

Clear, frail and silvern the words fell from Mireille's lips.

"_Benedicta tu!_"

The blessing that Louise and all others had withheld, now fell like a solemn prophecy from the innocent's lips, rang like a divine decree in that pure voice that had been hushed so long.

Mireille was healed! Healed through Cherie and her child of sorrow and shame.

A wave of exalted emotion overwhelmed Louise, and she sank on her knees beside Mireille, repeating the hallowed benediction.

With flowing tears Cherie, clasping her baby in her arms, wavered and trembled like a holy picture seen in moonlit waters....

And so farewell--farewell to Mireille, Cherie, Louise.

They are still in their Belgian village awaiting the dawn of their deliverance.

Around them the fury of War still rages, and the end of their sorrow is not yet.

But upon them has descended the Peace of G.o.d which pa.s.seth all understanding.

THE END