Angela sat down also--she was speechless and frightened. She watched the
old woman unfold the coverings, and she saw the form of a sleeping
new-born baby exposed to the heat and light of the fire. She tried to
say something, to get control of herself, but she only succeeded in
bending nearer the apparition.

"Zalie she cum las' night like I told you she would. She's daid
now--Zalie is. I don buried her at sun-up--an' I want it tole--if it
ever is tole--that the child was buried long o' Zalie. She done planned
while she was a-dying.

"I told her what you-all promised an' she went real content-like after
that."

There was sodden despair in Becky's voice.

"Who--is the father of this child?"

The commonplace question, under the strain, sounded trivial--but it was
rung from Angela's dismay.

Becky gave a rough laugh.

"Not the agony o' death an' the fear o' hell could wring that out of
Zalie," she said. Then: "Yo' ain't goin' back on yo' promise, are yo'?"

Sister Angela rallied. At any moment the wheels on the road might end
her time for considering poor Becky.

"You mean," she whispered, "that you renounce--this child; give it to