“David, I never understood until the past months why the Master so often withdrew alone into the wilderness. There is not only food and medicine for one’s body; there is also healing for the heart and strength for the soul in nature. One gets very close to God, David, in these temples of God’s own building.”
Dr. Coughlan studied his old friend curiously; “Change; remarkable change in you! Remarkable! Never said a thing like that in all your life before, never.”
The shepherd smiled, “It’s your prescription, Doctor,” he said.
They retired early that evening, for the physician declared that his friend must need the rest. “Talk to-morrow,” he said; “all day; nothing else to do.” He promptly enforced his decision by retiring to his own bunk, leaving the shepherd to follow his example. But not until the doctor was sure that his friend was sleeping soundly did he permit himself to sink into unconsciousness.
It was just past midnight, when the shepherd was aroused by the doctor striking a match to light the lamp. As he awoke, he heard Pete’s voice, “Where is Dad? Pete wants Dad.”
Dr. Coughlan, thinking it some strange freak of the boy’s disordered brain, and not wishing to break his friend’s much needed rest, was trying in low tones to persuade the boy to wait until morning.
“What does Pete want?” asked the shepherd entering the room.
“Pete wants Dad; Dad and the other man. They must sure go with Pete right quick.”
“Go where with Pete? Who told Pete to come for Dad?” asked Mr. Howitt.
“He told Pete. Right now, he said. And Pete he come. ’Course I come with him. Dad must go, an’ the other man too, ’cause he said so.”