"The moon has risen," she said. "The Germans are shelling the
village."
Grace rose, and ran to her for protection.
"Take me away!" she cried. "We shall be killed if we stay here."
She stopped, looking in astonishment at the tall black figure of
the nurse, standing immovably by the window. "Are you made of
iron?" she exclaimed. "Will nothing frighten you?"
Mercy smiled sadly. "Why should I be afraid of losing my life?"
she answered. "I have nothing worth living for!"
The roar of the cannon shook the cottage for the second time. A
second shell exploded in the courtyard, on the opposite side of
the building.
Bewildered by the noise, panic-stricken as the danger from the
shells threatened the cottage more and more nearly, Grace threw
her arms round the nurse, and clung, in the abject familiarity of
terror, to the woman whose hand she had shrunk from touching not
five minutes since. "Where is it safest?" she cried. "Where can I
hide myself?"
"How can I tell where the next shell will fall?" Mercy answered,
quietly.
The steady composure of the one woman seemed to madden the other.
Releasing the nurse, Grace looked wildly round for a way of
escape from the cottage.
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