here　was　another　woman；　whom　he　took　to　be　thatwife　of　his　father’s；　called　Deborah—who　had；　as　he　had　once　believed；　so　much　to　tell　him。　Butshe；　alone；　of　all　that　pany；　looked　at　him　and　signified　that　there　was　no　speech　in　the　grave。

He　was　a　stranger　there—they　did　not　see　him　pass；　they　did　not　know　what　he　was　looking　for；they　could　not　help　him　search。　He　wanted　to　find　Elisha；　who　knew；　perhaps；　who　would　help　him—but　Elisha　was　not　there。　There　was　Roy：　Roy　also　might　have　helped　him；　but　he　had　beenstabbed　with　a　knife；　and　lay　now；　brown　and　silent；　at　his　father’s　feet。

Then　there　began　to　flood　John’s　soul　the　waters　of　despair。　Love　is　as　strong　as　death；　asdeep　as　the　grave。　But　love；　which　had；　perhaps；　like　a　benevolent　monarch；　swelled　thepopulation　of　his　neighboring　kingdom；　Death；　had　not　himself　descended：　they　owed　him　noallegiance　here。　Here　there　was　no　speech　or　language；　and　there　was　no　love；　no　one　to　say：　Youare　beautiful；　John；　no　one　to　forgive　him；　no　matter　what　his　sin；　no　one　to　heal　him；　and　lift　himup。　No　one：　father　and　mother　looked　backward；　Roy　was　bloody；　Elisha　was　not　here。

Then　the　darkness　began　to　murmur—a　terrible　sound—and　John’s　ears　trembled。　In　thismurmur　that　filled　the　grave；　like　a　thousand　wings　beating　on　the　air；　he　recognized　a　sound　thathe　had　always　heard。　He　began；　for　terror；　to　weep　and　moan—and　this　sound　was　swallowed　up；and　yet　was　magnified　by　the　echoes　that　filled　the　darkness。

This　sound　had　filled　John’s　life；　so　it　now　seemed；　from　the　moment　he　had　first　drawnbreath。　He　had　heard　it　everywhere；　in　prayer　and　in　daily　speech；　and　wherever　the　saints　weregathered；　and　in　the　unbelieving　streets。　It　was　in　his　father’s　anger；　and　in　his　mother’s　calminsistence；　and