Hitt was on his feet instantly. “Look here!” he cried. “Something’s wrong! Leave us, Sidney. Let me talk with her alone.”
The boy reluctantly obeyed. Hitt closed the door after him, then took the girl’s hand and led her back to his own chair. “Now, little one,” he said gently, “tell me all about it.”
For a moment she sat quiet. Then the tears began to flow; and then she leaned her head against him and sobbed––sobbed as does the stricken mother who hangs over the lifeless form of her babe––sobbed as does the strong man bereft of the friend of his bosom––sobbed as did the Man of Sorrow, when he held out his arms over the worldly city that cruelly rejected him. He was the channel for the divine; yet the wickedness of the human mind broke his great heart. Carmen was not far from him at that moment.
Hitt held her hand, and choked back the lump that filled his throat. Then the weeping slowly ceased, and the girl looked up into his anxious face.
“It’s all past now,” she said brokenly. “Jesus forgave them that killed him. And––”
“You have been with––Ames?” said Hitt in a low, quiet tone. “And he tried to kill you?”
“He––he knew not what he was doing. Evil used him, because as yet he has no spiritual understanding. But––God is life! There is––no––death!” Her voice faded away in a whisper.
“Well, little girl, I am waiting for the whole story. What happened?”
Carmen got to her feet. “Nothing happened, Mr. Hitt––nothing. It didn’t happen––it wasn’t real. I––I seemed to manifest weakness––and I fell––to the floor––but I didn’t lose consciousness. And just then Mr. Willett came in––and Mr. Ames sent me here with him.”