“I understand Orondo,” replied Yermah. “I have stayed away because I feared to excite him. I am glad that I may see him.”
Yermah came quietly and put his hand on Orondo’s head. He knew how to still the throbbing, uncontrolled emotion dividing the sick man’s mental and physical self. Without a word, he willed him peace, and after a time Orondo opened his eyes and seemed to breathe easier.
“The Master of the Hidden Spheres, who causes the principles to arise, give thee peace, Orondo.”
Orondo made no reply; his lips quivered and his eyes filled. Yermah took both his hands, and, looking at him steadily, said:
“Part of thy burden falls upon me. I will share physical pain with thee.”
Soon the veins in Yermah’s hands, and then those in his forehead, stood out like whipcords. He experienced the same difficulty in breathing, the same spasmodic action of the heart, as had Orondo. He sighed deeply, and it was soon apparent that Orondo’s nervous tension was relieved. In the silence which followed both were busy with the same thoughts.
“When does she go?” Orondo asked, finally.
“The day following to-morrow.”
“Hast thou seen her since?”
“Once only. I have not had speech with her.”