By the roadside there chanced to be a poor woman and her two children, who, as the carriage passed, held out their hands and asked for help. A hand was thrust out of the window, and a few pennies were thrown on the ground. Then the carriage rolled on, and the people continued to shout, "He is the very image of the Great Stone Face."
But Ernest stood apart from the crowd, nor did he join in the shout, for his heart was full of sorrow and disappointment. Through an opening in the trees he saw the Great Stone Face looking benignly down upon him, and the great lips seemed to say: "He will come. Fear not, Ernest. The man will come."
The years went on, and Ernest ceased to be a boy. He had grown to be a young man now. He was not much noticed in the valley, for he was still quiet and modest. They saw nothing remarkable about his way of living, save that when the work of the day was done he loved to go apart and gaze upon the Great Stone Face.
They knew not that it had become his greatest teacher, filling his heart and mind with thoughts and hopes far above earthly things.
By this time poor old Mr. Gathergold was dead and buried, and the strange part about the matter was that when his wealth left him, as it did some time before he died, and he became a poor old man, the people seemed to forget that there ever had been a resemblance to the Great Stone Face. Indeed, they said it was all a mistake, and the great man was yet to come.
Suddenly through the valley there ran another rumor. Years before a young man had left the valley, had gone into the world as a warrior, and finally had become a great commander. Such had been his character and life that the illustrious man was called by the name of Old Blood-and-Thunder. This old general, being worn out with warfare, decided to return to his native valley and spend his last days in peace. But the most wonderful thing about Old Blood-and-Thunder was the fact that all who knew him said that he was the man so long hoped for in the valley, for he looked exactly like the Great Stone Face.
Great preparations, therefore, were made to receive the General—a banquet was to be given and speeches made in his honor. On the day of the festival Ernest, with all the others of the village, left their work and went to the woods, where the banquet was held. A great crowd surrounded the tables, so that Ernest at first could not see the great man for whom he had waited and hoped so long, so he contented himself with looking at the great face on the mountain side, which he could see plainly through the trees. Meanwhile he could hear those around him talking about Old Blood-and-Thunder and the Great Stone Face.
"'Tis the same face, to a hair," cried one man, clapping his hands for joy.
"Wonderfully like, that's a fact," said another.
"Like! Why, I call it Old Blood-and-Thunder himself, in a monstrous looking-glass," cried a third.