hem from going further, as though it were almost
forbidden, holy ground, as though they were held back by an invisible
barrier in spite of themselves."

"True," said Madison; "and I sense that very thing myself--all men must
sense it after what has taken place, all must feel the presence of a
power too majestic, too full of awe for the mind to grasp. This
faith"--he threw out his hands in an impotent gesture--"we can only
accept it unquestioningly, as a mighty thing, an actual, living,
existent thing, even if we cannot fully understand. But I feel that with
what we have in mind we have a right to go there now--and we should take
that little lad who was cured as well--and his parents, they should come
too."

"And shall we see _him_?" Mrs. Thornton asked again tensely.

"Why, I do not know," Madison replied; "but at least we shall see his
niece, Miss Vail, and it is with her in any case that we would have to
discuss the plan, for the Patriarch, you know, is deaf and dumb and
blind."

"You know them, don't you?" Thornton inquired.

Madison smiled, a little strangely, a little deprecatingly.

"If one can speak of 'knowing' such as they--yes," he answered. "When I
came two weeks ago, the Patriarch was not wholly blind, and he was very
kind to me. I learned to love the gentle soul of the man, and in a way,
skeptical though I was, I felt his power--but I never realized until
this afternoon how stupendous, how immeasurable it was."

"Let us go to the cottage, then," said Thornton. "Naida, dear, let me
help you; it is quite a little distance and--"

She put out her hands in a happy, intimate way to hold him off.

"You can't realize it, Robert, can you? That dear, practical business
head of yours makes it even harder for you than it is for me--and I can
hardly realize it myself. But I _am_ cured, dear, and I'm well and
strong, and I don't need any help--why, Robert, I am going to help you
now, instead of always being a source of worry and anxiety to you. Come,
let us go."

"If you will walk slowly," suggested Madison, "I'll speak to the little
Holmes boy and his parents, and bring them with us."

He moved away as he spoke--in the direction of a racking cough, that
rose above the confused, murmuring, whispering, shaken voices on every
hand; and in a little knot of people he was, for a moment, pressed close
against Pale Face Harry.

"All right," whispered Pale Face Harry, "it's in your pocket now--but,
say, no more r