Katy covered her face with her hands. She went on mechanically as though she had prepared what she had to say.
"Before your mother died and the preacher came to give her communion, he lifted the cup high in the air and the light shone on it. Then I remembered everything that I had forgotten, how I had run away to the church and everything, and I knew that your father had the shining cup in his hand when I ran up to him. That was what I wanted—the shining cup. He was there with it in his hand; it is as plain as if it were now."
To this Katy returned no answer.
"Why didn't you tell it long ago?"
"I didn't remember this part till that night," said Katy, patiently. "But I couldn't come and tell you then! I have thought over this and prayed over it. If I could bear it for you, I would, David. But I can't."
"I do not believe you," said David. "You imagined it. What could my father have wanted with the communion service? What could he have done with it?"
"There was a hole in the wall and he pushed it in quickly."
"A hole in the wall!"
"Alvin's father was mending the wall. There used to be a window there. I asked the squire about the window. Alvin's father was closing it up."