“Here, get thee betwixt these two cripples,” whispered Dan urgently. “Fasten thou onto this man’s tunic—so! Now go, and come again—seeing. I will wait for thee by this third pillar. Thou wilt see me.”
The blind boy stumbled on behind his crippled guide, his heart beating so loud in his ears that he could scarce hear what the Voice said to him. But the thrilling [pg 51]touch on his sightless eyes sank to the depths of his soul. He saw—Jesus.
Some one was pushing him from behind; Tor yielded to the pressure without a word—without a sound. His great eyes, wide and bright, still remained fastened upon the man who had healed him; but he uttered no sound of rejoicing.
To Dan, watching beside the third pillar, came a sudden sickening sense of defeat. He made his way through the crowd and again laid forcible hands upon Tor.
“Let me alone,” commanded Tor briefly. “I want to look at the man.”
“Canst see him?” inquired Dan incredulously.
Tor made no answer. He was thinking confusedly, vaguely, while one fixed purpose formed and lifted itself like a great, radiant light in his darkened un[pg 52]derstanding. “I shall follow him,” he said aloud, and his thin face shone strangely. “I shall see him always.”
“Canst thou see, lad?” cried Dan, griping his friend’s shoulders impatiently, “or art thou crazed as well as blind?”
Tor turned his bright eyes upon the other boy. “Can I see?” he echoed, and laughed aloud. Then, in a sudden ecstasy, he leaped upon a balustrade and shouted aloud the word which he had heard afar off in his darkness: “Hosanna! Hosanna! Hosanna in the highest!” Myriads of child voices took up the cry, and it arose into the blue heavens far—far beyond the smoke of the sacrificial fires, till it mingled with the songs of angels before the great white throne. And there was joy in Heaven.