"I have had no sign of an answer," said he despairingly. "We must pray more."
The next evening they prayed for an hour. Grandfather's heavy heart found relief, and Amos on his knees with eyes uplifted expected some visible pillar of fire or of cloud.
"We shall hear from him," said Grandfather with assurance.
The last evening of November was stormy. A late and lovely autumn had ended yesterday with a fiery sunset and a roaring wind, and to-day wind and rain and sleet made the outer world almost intolerable. The blast penetrating between the cracks of the cottage blew the fire to a furious blaze which, roaring up the chimney, gave little heat. The gale stirred the end of Grandfather's beard as he knelt by his chair, and fanned Amos's cheek. There were the dark shadows, the silvery white of Grandfather's beard, the golden light on the brass bowl of the old lamp, and all about the sound and fury of the storm, which seemed to threaten the destruction of the cottage.
Grandfather had worked himself into an ecstasy of expectation and it seemed to him certain that a divine communication was imminent. Amos opened his eyes to look at him and did not close them, so wonderful did he seem. The wind distressed him but the sight of the old man at prayer calmed him.
"O Lord, we pray Thee for some sign that we are heard. We ask Thee for Thy blessing upon one whom we love. Thou knowest the cruel snares set for the feet of the young; keep his feet from going in those paths. Forgive those who have tried to set his way therein. Bring him safely home. We wait, O Lord!"
The voice grew shrill; the key upon which it ended was high, as though the petitioner did indeed wait. There was suddenly a sound outside that was different from the wind, a sharp closing of the gate behind a visitor in haste. Before Grandfather and Amos could rise from their knees, the door opened, and, looking up, they saw not a mysterious visitor, still less Matthew, whom his grandfather thought of first of all, but Levis, pale and drenched with rain.
Levis looked away; he did not like to see men in the act of baring their souls any more than he liked to bare his own.
"I don't wish to interrupt."
"There is no interruption. Sit down, Edward."