CHAPTER LX.
kynthoma ogas marowe"—
FOR some days Laura had been a free woman once more. During this time, she had experienced—first, two or three days of triumph, excitement, congratulations, a sort of sunburst of gladness, after a long night of gloom and anxiety; then two or three days of calming down, by degrees—a receding of tides, a quieting of the storm-wash to a murmurous surf-beat, a diminishing of devastating winds to a refrain that bore the spirit of a truce—days given to solitude, rest, self-communion, and the reasoning of herself into a realization of the fact that she was actually done with bolts and bars, prison. horrors and impending death; then came a day whose hours filed slowly by her, each laden with some remnant, some remaining fragment, of the dreadful time so lately ended—a day which, closing at last, left the past a fading shore, behind her and turned her eyes toward the broad sea of the future. So speedily do we put the dead away and come back to our place in the ranks to march in the pilgrimage of life again!
And now the sun rose once more and ushered in the first day of what Laura comprehended and accepted as a new life.
543
