The other man sat before him, bent forward, his hands on his knees, listening, dazed.  There was a quality in the speaker’s tone which made it necessary to take his words seriously.  Yet—­the other sighed and relaxed a bit as he waited, watched.  The calm voice went on.

“The largest event of my life has happened in the last hour, in this room.  It was this way.  When Dick went out I—­went utterly to pieces.  It was the farthest depth.  Out of it I called on God, not knowing what I did.  And he answered.  That’s what happened.  As if—­as if a bandage had been lifted from my eyes, I was—­I was in the presence of things—­indescribable.  There was no change, only that where I was blind before I now saw.  I don’t mean vision.  I haven’t words to explain what I mean.  But a world was about me as real as this; it had perhaps always been there; in that moment I was first aware of it.  I knew, as if a door had been opened, what heaven means—­a condition of being.  And I knew another thing more personal—­that, without question, it was right with those I thought I had lost and that the horror which seemed blackest I have no need to dread.  I cannot say that I saw them or heard or touched them, but I was with them.  I understand, but I can’t make you understand.  I told Dick an hour ago that if I could believe they were living, that I should ever have them again, I should be perfectly happy.  That’s true now.  I believe it, and I am—­perfectly happy.”

The listener groaned uncontrollably.

“I know your thought,” the judge answered the sound, and his eyes were like lamps as he turned them toward the man.  “But you’re wrong—­my mind is not unhinged.  You’ll see.  After what I’ve gone through, after facing eternity without hope, what are mere years?  I can wait.  I know.  I am—­perfectly happy.”

Then the man who listened rose from his chair and came and put a hand gently on the shoulder of the judge, looking down at him gravely.  “I don’t understand you very well, John,” he said, “but I’m glad of anything—­of anything”—­his voice went suddenly.  “Will you wait for me here a few minutes?  I’m going home and I’ll be back.  I think I’ll spend the night with you if you don’t object.”

“Object!  Wait!” The judge looked up in surprise, and with that he smiled.  “I see.  Surely.  I’d like to have you here.  Yes, I’ll certainly wait.”

Outside in the hall one might have heard the brother-in-law say a low word or two to Miller as the man helped him on with his coat; then the front door shut softly, and he was gone, and the judge sat alone, his head thrown back against his chair, his face luminous.

The other man swung down the dark street, rushing, agitated.  As he came to the corner an electric light shone full on him and a figure crossing down toward him halted.

“Father!  I was coming to find you.  Something extraordinary has happened.  I was coming to find you.”

“Yes, Dick.”  The older man waited.