that her husband had been absent from home for twenty hours, and had not yet returned. In the morning her husband’s letter was brought to her; and, her face bathed in tears, and with an appearance of utter despair, she took it to the Colonel.
A week later Albína presented a petition to be allowed to return to her home. The grief shown by Madame Migoúrski affected everyone who saw her. They all pitied the unfortunate, widowed mother. When she had received permission to leave, she presented another petition: to be allowed to disinter the bodies of her children and to take them with her.
The Authorities were surprised at this sentimentality, but gave this permission also.
The evening after she had received this second permission, Rosolówski, Albína, and Ludwíka, taking the box in which the coffins were to be placed, drove off in a hired cart. At the cemetery where the children were buried, Albína, falling on her knees by their grave, prayed awhile, but soon rose, dried her eyes, and saying to Rosolówski, “Do what is necessary … I can’t!” stepped aside.
Rosolówski and Ludwíka moved the gravestone and dug up the top of the grave with spades, so that it looked as if it had been opened. When this was done they called Albína; and returned home with the box full of earth.
The day fixed for their departure arrived. Rosolówski rejoiced at the success of the enterprise now so nearly accomplished. Ludwíka had baked pastry and cakes for the journey, and, repeating her usual asseveration, “By my mother!” declared her heart was bursting with fear and joy. Migoúrski was glad of his deliverance from the garret where he had spent more than a month, but yet gladder at Albína’s animation and joy of life. She seemed to have forgotten all former griefs and all danger, and came running to him in the garret, beaming with rapturous delight as in the days of her girlhood.