THE HUMAN SACRIFICE The valley was an ill place even for the body, a lair of rheums and agues; and disembodied fevers waited in wells for the sunk pail.

For the valley was very beautiful, beautiful with that green beauty that only comes of damp and decay.
Late one October night, Antony, alone with Silencieux, as was now again his custom, was surprised to hear footsteps coming hastily up the wood, and even more surprised at the sudden unusual appearance of Beatrice.
"I am sorry to disturb you, Antony," she said, noting with a pang how the lamp had been arranged to throw a vivid light upon Silencieux, "but I want you to come down and look at Wonder.

I'm afraid she is ill." "Wonder, ill!" exclaimed Antony, rising with a start, "I will come at once;" and they went together.
Wonder was lying in her bed, with flushed cheeks and bright yet heavy eyes.
"Wonder, my little Wonder," said Antony caressingly, as he bent over her.

"Does little Wonder feel ill ?" "Yes, Daddy.

I feel so sick, Daddy." "Never mind; she will be better to-morrow." But he had noticed how burning hot were her hands, and how dry were her fresh little lips.
"I must go for the doctor at once," he said to his wife, when they were outside the room.