"Have you a sore throat?" he asked.
"No," she said; "but my child died of suffocation. His throat was swollen with inflammation and croup, and when he tried to speak to me his voice was hard, like mine is now. It made my own throat ache; and ever since, the pain has been there and I have spoken in this way."
Thus, simply, Myron told of that marvel, that extraordinary instance of the power of Love. For this was indeed so. In Myron's case had been made manifest one of those marvellous mysteries of the human mechanism that now and again thrills the scientist with a burning zeal to discover the real relation between mind and matter, to enter the penetralia of humanity and learn its secret. That desolate night in the cottage the mother-heart apprehended each pang of the choking child, and the mother endured in her own organism a like agony. How sad to think she had no Divine license to do so! How strange that such a love should spring from shame!
Hardman's mind grasped the significance of her words upon the instant. For a moment the realization of this woman's strength held him silent. Then he remembered her loneliness and bent towards her.
"Myron," he said, "will you be my friend?"
"Oh, do you mean it?" she asked, breathlessly.
"Assuredly," he said.
Then once more Myron gave her hands as a seal of friendship.
There was only a short time left after that—a few moments of earnest prayer from Philip Hardman—a few words asking her to go to the rest of the meetings—a brief promise from her and briefer acknowledgments of his goodness faltering between her sobs—then Hardman had said good-bye, and his form was already vanishing from sight before Myron realized that she was once more alone.
Philip Hardman hurried to the station and caught his train. The first stage of his journey was short, only some fifty miles to the city, where he was to meet the Reverend Mr. Fletcher. He found him at the depot, ready to go to Jamestown. In a few hurried words Hardman told him of Myron Holder—of her sin—her punishment—her sorrow. He commended her to Mr. Fletcher's prayers, and asked him to preach so that her diffident heart might find some message in his words.