Susannah, wan and weary with a long night's nursing, was
sitting beside the pillow. Smith looked upon them both benevolently. It
was some minutes before he spoke. Susannah was too much in awe of him to
say much, but his presence was welcome. Since Halsey's rational self had
been lost in his delirium, loneliness like darkness that could be felt
had pressed upon her.

"Our brother will be healed," said Smith at length. "It is given to me
to know that he will be healed." He then spread his hands over the sick
man and made a short prayer. There was much fervour in his words and his
voice was loud.

"Give him to drink," said Smith.

"Biery's wife told me as long as he was in fever not to give him water."

Smith looked down upon her kindly, but he spoke in a tone of absolute
authority. "My sister, I say unto thee give him water. It is given to me
to know that he must have water and that he will do well."

"It is never done in such cases," said Susannah. "I remember when my
father--" She had not the faith that Smith required of her.

Without a frown, with perfect gentleness, Smith fetched the water and,
lifting the sick man's head, allowed him to drink eagerly. Halsey was
obviously comforted.

Smith had something else to say. If he had not been who he was Susannah
might have perceived that he was somewhat perplexed, even embarrassed.
Just as a child does not easily attribute to the adult such hindering
emotions, so she supposed him to be upon a plane above them.

He lingered by the bedside, apparently watching the sufferer. At length
he said, "You set out with this young man--yesterday morning?"

"Yes, very early."

There was another pause, then he said, "Did you go before a justice of
the peace?"

"A justice of the peace?" Then she added inconsequently, "My uncle is a
justice of the peace." She had never heard of a civil marriage; she did
not know in the least what he meant.

"Or--or a minister?"

She began to understand now.

"I married you myself, sister, and it was sealed in heaven, but I
haven't got a license to marry, so that the Gentiles would say--that the
knot wasn't tied, ye know." The last words were a lapse into common
parlance. She had grown accustomed to the hybrid nature of his
mannerism.

He had expected and feared to see her white face flame into excitement,
but to Susannah it seemed a small thing now what the Gentiles might say.
If the marriage was indeed sealed in heaven, then all was well