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"I am not going to suffer," says Mona, lightly. "Sorrow only falls on every second generation; and you know poor mother was very unhappy at one time: therefore I am free. You will call that superstition, but," with a grave shake of her head, "it is quite true." "Ah," he said to himself, "true were the signs! How crazy I was to go against them! Now my bravery has been useless, for here I must stop and die. The widows will still mourn, and who will care for my father and mother in their old age? Pity me now, O Sun; help me, O Great Above Person! Give me life!" "Say I am quite forgiven," he pleads, earnestly, his eyes on hers..
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"Oh, I saw her," said the old woman; "she passed this way. I myself have no great power to help you, but over by that far butte beyond, lives another old woman. Go to her and she will give you power to continue your journey. You could not reach the place you are seeking without help. Beyond the next butte from her lodge you will find the camp of the ghosts." "Is he there?" asks Mona, pointing with trembling fingers to the house. "Yes. You may bring it to me—to-morrow," returns she, with the faintest hesitation, which but enhances the value of the permission, whereon his heart once more knows hope and content. "In that I spoke the truth," says Mr. Rodney, with a shameless laugh, "because it was an uncle who left me some money.".
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