The man started and muttered:  “He is even stupider than I believed him.”  “You may have it,” he added aloud, after a wondering pause.

“That—­and this?” returned Gabriel questioningly, taking up the Book of Life.

His father scowled, for he remembered yesterday.  “Very well, if you like,” he answered, with a bad grace.

“Then thank you, father, and I will trouble you no more.”

Gabriel’s stepmother could scarcely repress her tears as she gave the boy his breakfast and prepared him a package of bread and meat to carry on his journey.  Then she gave him a few pence, all she had, and he started off with her blessing.

As Gabriel went out into the fresh air, all nature was beautiful around him.  There seemed no end to the blue sky, the wealth of sunshine, the generous foliage on the waving trees.  The birds were singing joyously.  All things breathed a blessing.  Gabriel wondered, as he walked along, about the God who, some one had once told him, made all things.  It seemed to him that it could be only a loving Being who created such beauty as surrounded him now.

The little book was clasped in his hand.  He suddenly remembered with relief that he was alone and could read it without fear.

Eagerly opening it, one verse, as before, flamed into brightness, and Gabriel read:—­

“He that loveth not, knoweth not God; for God is love.”

How wonderful!  Gabriel’s heart swelled.  God was love, then.  He closed the book.  For the first time God seemed real to him.  The zephyrs that kissed his cheek and the sun that warmed him like a caress, seemed assuring him of the truth.  The birds declared it in their songs.

Gabriel went down on his knees in the dewy grass and, dropping his bundle, clasped to his breast the book.

“Dear God,” he said, “I am all alone and I have no one to love but Topaz.  He is a little dog and I must give him up because he doesn’t belong to me.  I know now that I shall love you and you will help me give Topaz back, because my stepmother told me that you know everything, and she always told the truth.”

Then Gabriel arose and, taking the package of food, went on with a light heart until he came to Mother Lemon’s cottage.  Even that poor shanty looked pleasant in the morning beams.  The tall sunflowers near the door flaunted their colors in the light, and their cheerful faces seemed laughing at Mother Lemon as she came to the entrance and called anxiously to the approaching boy:—­

“Come quick, lad, hasten.  My poor Tommy is distracted, for your dog whines and threatens to dig his way out of his prison, and I will not answer for the consequences.”

Indeed, the tortoise-shell cat was seated on the old woman’s shoulder.  The fur stood stiffly on his arched back, his tail was the size of two, and his eyes glowed.

Gabriel just glanced at the cat as it opened its mouth and hissed, then he gazed at Mother Lemon.