lt that if comfort ever came to it, it must be through a
living soul, and it knew of none save those in this world and in this
place. And I said: 'Why did you not turn for help to God?'

"Then it gave a terrible answer: it said, 'What is God?'

"And when I heard these words there came over me a wild kind of pity,
such as I used to feel when I saw my little child struggling for breath
when he was ill, and I held out my arms to this poor lonely thing, but
it shrank back, crying:

"'Speak to me, but do not touch me, brave human creature. I am all
death, and if you come too near me the Death in me may kill the life in
you.'

"But I said: 'No Death can kill the life in me, even though it kill my
body. Dear fellow-spirit, I cannot tell you what I know; but let me take
you in my arms; rest for an instant on my heart, and perhaps I may make
you feel what I feel all around us.'

"And as I spoke I threw my arms around the shadowy form and strained it
to my breast. And I felt as if I were pressing to me only air, but air
colder than any ice, so that my heart seemed to stop beating, and I
could hardly breathe. But I still clasped it closer and closer, and as I
grew colder it seemed to grow less chill.

"And at last it spoke, and the whisper was not far away, but near. It
said:

"'It is enough; now I know what God is!'

"After that I remember nothing more, till I woke up and found myself
lying on the floor beside the bed. It was morning, and the spirit was
not there; but I have a strong feeling that I have been able to help
it, and that it will trouble you no more.

"Surely it is late! I must go at once. I promised to have tea with the
children."

* * * * *

Neither of us spoke; neither of us stirred; when the sound of her light
footfall was heard no more, there was complete silence. Below, the mists
had gathered so thickly that now they spread across the valley one dead
white sea of vapour in which village and woods and stream were all
buried--all except the little church spire, that, still unsubmerged,
pointed triumphantly to the sky; and what a sky! For that which
yesterday had steeped us in cold and darkness, now, piled even to the
zenith in mountainous cloud-masses, was dyed, every crest and summit of
it, in crimson fire, pouring from a great fount of colour, where, to the
west, the heavens opened to show that wonder-world whence saints and
singers have drawn their loveliest images o