Then all this fell away from him. He thought no
more. He lay on the earth now, not like a dead man on
a battlefield, but like a child on its mother's knees. He
felt the earth take him in her arms, and he closed his
eyes, abandoning himself to her embrace.

The sound of distant voices roused him from his
dreaming doze. He turned on his elbow to listen. The
old aunt, the old cousin were talking together: "Oh, the
naughty little girl, off there in the meadow chasing but-
terflies! How heartless children are! To leave her poor
brother all alone, when he needs so to be cheered!"

The blind man lying in the ferns broke out into a
laugh, a ringing young laugh, without irony, without
bitterness.

It was the first time he had laughed since . . . since
his blindness.

-203-