“Well, something”—Arthur was struggling to express himself, “splendid. It shines like a light——”
Their brisk footsteps left the bridge, and were dulled by the dirt road beyond. Sandy’s response was inaudible. A last murmur, and then silence.
Evans was swept by a wave of emotion; his heart, warm and alive, began to beat in the place where there had been frozen emptiness.
“Something splendid—that shines like a light!”
Years afterward he spoke of this moment to Jane. “I can’t describe it. It was a miracle—their coming. As much of a miracle as that light which shone on Paul as he rode to Damascus. The change within me was absolute. I was born again. All the old fears slipped from me like a garment. I was saved, Jane, by those boys’ voices in the dark.”
The next day was Sunday. Evans called up Sandy and Arthur and invited them to supper. “Old Mary said you were here last night, and didn’t find me. I’ve a book or two for you. Can you come and get them? And stay to supper. Miss Towne will be here and her uncle.”
The boys could not know that they were asked as a shield and buckler in the battle which Evans was fighting. It seemed to him that he could not meet Frederick Towne. Yet it had been, of course, the logical thing to ask him. Edith had invited herself, and Towne had, of course, much to tell about Jane.
Evans, therefore, with an outward effect of tranquillity, played the host. After supper, however, he took the boys with him to the library.
On the table lay a gray volume. He opened it and showed the Cruikshank illustrations.