“Who held you up?”
“God.”
The patient eyed his visitor a moment, and a queer softened expression began to melt into his face.
“Sit down,” he said. “Now, begin and tell.”
“Well, you see my name’s Murray too, my first name. Murray Van Rensselaer. Son of Charles Van Rensselaer. You’ve probably heard of him. Well, I broke a law, and then I didn’t like the idea of facing the consequences, so I ran away. I don’t know why I ran away. I hadn’t been used to running away from things. I always faced them out. But anyhow that doesn’t matter to you. I ran away, and after I got away I couldn’t quite see coming back, ever. I had some money, and for a few days I kept out of sight and got as far as I could away from home. The day of your wreck I’d been travelling on the trucks of a freight car because I hadn’t money, and we landed in Marlborough just at dark. Ever try travelling that way? Well, don’t. It isn’t what it’s cracked up to be. When the train stopped at a crossing I rolled off more dead than alive. I was all in. I hadn’t had anything to eat all day, and I kept sighting cops everywhere I turned. So I hid till the train went on, and then I crawled off in the dark up a hill.
“By and by I sighted a light, and came to it through the dark, because I was so sick of going on I couldn’t go a step further.
“There was an open window, and down just below me on a table in a basement I saw a row of cakes and bread. There didn’t seem to be anybody about, so I put my hand in and took some and began to eat. I didn’t call it stealing. I was starved.”
The patient’s eyes were watching Murray intently, and in the back of the room the minister was watching the patient.
“It turned out to be a church, and they were getting up a big dinner to welcome you!”
A light shot into the eyes of the man on the pillow, that seemed to suddenly illume his whole face. A surprised glad light.