To the women sitting on the bench, wrapped around by the loneliness and the intense stillness of the oncoming night, the whole expedition appeared at last unveiled in all its grim betrayal. While Lois had been exaltedly imaginative, had resolved so desperately, had acted so daringly, there had never been, from the inception of the scheme, any chance that it could succeed. For the first time since Lois had left home, a wild seething anxiety for Justin possessed her. How could she have left him? She must go back to him at once!
Oh, Dosia, we must get home again; we must get home! she cried, starting up so vehemently that the baby in her arms screamed, startled, and Lois walked up and down distractedly hushing him, and then, as he still wailed, sat down once more and bared her white bosom to quiet him, talking the while in a low tone: We will have to get back; Dosia, we must start at once.
We will have to walk to Haledon, said Dosia.
Yes, yes. Perhaps we may come to some farmhouse where they will let us have a wagon, or one may pass us on the way and give us a lift. It is seven miles to Haledonthat isnt very far! I often walked five miles with Justin before I was married, and a mile or two more is nothing. There are plenty of trains from Haledon.
Oh, we can do it easily enough, said Dosia, though her heart was as lead within her breast. You had better eat some of these biscuits before we start, she advised, taking them out of the bag; and Lois munched them obediently, and drank some tepid water from a pitcher which Dosia had found inside. As she put it back again in its place, she slipped to the side of the platform and looked down the moon-filled narrow valley.
Through all this journey Dosia had carried double thoughts; her voice called where none might hear. It spoke to far distances now as she whispered, with hands outspread:
Oh, _why_ werent you in when I went for you? Why didnt you come and take care of us, when I needed you so much? Why did you let us go off this way? You might have known! Why _dont_ you come and take care of us? Theres no one to take care of us but you! _You_ could! A dry sob stopped the wordsthe deep, inherent cry of womankind to man for help, for succor. She stooped over and picked up an oak-leaf that had lain on the ground since the winter, and pressed it to her bosom, and sent it fluttering off on a gust of wind down the incline, as if it could indeed take her message with it, before she went back to Lois.