ut of sight across
the bridge.

Full of alarm--full of hope also--Connor reached the house. In the patio
he found Zacharias standing with folded arms before a door.

"I must find David at once," he told Zacharias. "Where has he gone?"

"Up," said the servant, and pointed solemnly above him.

"Nonsense!" He added impatiently: "Where shall I find him, Zacharias?"

But again Zacharias waved to the blue sky.

"His body is in this room, but his mind is with Him above the world."

There was something in this that made Connor uneasy as he had never been
before.

"You may go into any room save the Room of Silence," continued
Zacharias, "but into this room only David and the four before him have
been. This is the holy place."

_CHAPTER EIGHTEEN_

Glani waited in the patio for the reappearance of the master, and as
Connor paced with short, nervous steps on the grass at every turn he
caught the flash of the sun on the stallion. Above his selfish greed he
had one honest desire: he would have paid with blood to see the great
horse face the barrier. That, however was beyond the reach of his
ambition, and therefore the beauty of Glani was always a hopeless
torment.

The quiet in the patio oddly increased his excitement. It was one of
those bright, still days when the wind stirs only in soft breaths,
bringing a sense of the open sky. Sometimes the breeze picked up a
handful of drops from the fountain and showered it with a cool rustling
on the grass. Sometimes it flared the tail of Glani; sometimes the
shadow of the great eucalyptus which stood west of the house quivered on
the turf.

Connor found himself looking minutely at trivial things, and in the
meantime David Eden in his room was deciding the fate of the American
turf. Even Glani seemed to know, for his glance never stirred from the
door through which the master had disappeared. What a horse the big
fellow was! He thought of the stallion in the paddock at the track. He
heard the thousands swarm and the murmur which comes deep out of a man's
throat when he sees a great horse.

The palms of Connor were wet with sweat. He kept rubbing them dry on the
hips of his trousers. Rehearsing his talk with David, he saw a thousand
flaws, and a thousand openings which he had missed. Then all thought
stopped; David had come out into the patio.

He came straight to Connor, smiling, and he said:

"The words were a temptation, but the mind that conceived them was not
t