(Takes it and follows him.)
Mother: (Still sweeping.) My good plates from the dresser, and dirty red mud on the floor, and the sticks all scattered in every place. (Stoops to pick them up.) Where is the child gone? (Goes to door.) I don’t see him—he couldn’t have gone to the river—it is getting dark—the bank is slippy. Come back! Come back! Where are you? (Child runs in.)
Mother: O where were you? I was in dread it was to the river you were gone, or into the river.
Child: I went after him. He is gone over the river.
Mother: He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t go through the flood.
Child: He did go over it. He was as if walking on the water. There was a light before his feet.
Mother: That could not be so. What put that thought in your mind?
Child: I called to him to come back for the branch, and he turned where he was in the river, and he bade me to bring it back, and to show it to yourself.
Mother: (Taking the branch.) There are fruit and flowers on it. It is a branch that is not of any earthly tree. (Falls on her knees.) He is gone, he is gone, and I never knew him! He was that stranger that gave me all! He is the King of the World!