its side, gazing straight before him, silent and unseeing. Occasionally he aroused to replenish the fire, to snuff the single candle, to open the door to peer into the night, and to listen for sounds which did not come. He would then return to the bunk, to continue his watch and meditation.
About midnight he wrapped himself up in a thick blanket, stretched himself upon the floor near the heater, and in a few minutes was fast asleep. He awoke with a start, and sat bolt upright. He looked toward the bunk, and something there held him spellbound. The child, gently whimpering, was surrounded by a soft, peculiar light such as he had never seen before. Hugo wondered at this, for the candle was out and it was not yet daylight. As he stared, striving to comprehend the meaning, he saw the dim form of a woman bending tenderly over the child, her hands touching the little face. An involuntary gasp of surprise escaped his lips, and he rubbed his eyes to be sure that he was not dreaming. When he looked again all was in darkness. The vision had disappeared.
Rising quickly to his feet, Hugo struck a match and lighted the candle. His hands trembled as he did so, and his knees seemed unusually weak. He glanced furtively around the room as if expecting to see someone standing near. Then he went to the bunk and looked down upon the child. It was asleep! This was a surprise, for Hugo was certain that he had heard its whimper but a couple of minutes before. What did it all mean? Was it a dream from which he had been suddenly aroused: or had the mother really been bending over her child, and for a few fleeting seconds was revealed to mortal eyes? He had heard of such apparitions, but had always considered them as mere delu-
