“Even if he lives here you may go all your life and never come face to face with him again. Dear God, what a beautiful moment!" The fire went out of Spurlock's eyes and the shadow of hopeless weariness fell upon him. Every window, from the groundfloor to the garret had its occupant, and the roofs were covered with spectators. Spurlock looked up. Yet in some hidden corner was a vein of sentiment, of which for the first time in his later life he was now unexpectedly aware. Sheppard, with a laugh that cut the ears of those who listened to it like a razor,—"Do not despair! And who or what shall give me comfort when my son is gone? I have wept till my eyes are dry,—suffered till my heart is broken,—prayed till the voice of prayer is dumb,—and all of no avail.
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