“Why? What is there to be frightened of? Why?”
But he was frightened at such joy. In a minute he felt it would burst out of him in a great wind and like a kite he would soar on it, and that the mist which lay between him and the world would be lifted by it also. Rising, rising up.
He was rising through the mist, blown on a gust of love, lifting up, straining at a white light that he would bathe in. He half rose.
“John!”
And when he bathed there he would know all, why he was blind, why life had been so to him. He was nearer. To rise on this love, how wonderful to rise on this love. He was near now.
“John!!”
A ladder, bring a ladder. In his ears his own voice cried loudly, and a deeper blindness closed in upon him.
As they carried him to his room, the bells suddenly broke out again from along the street. Probably they were practising for some great event. It was the first thing he heard as he came back to the world, and he smiled at them.
END OF PART III