to him and help him!" The other sketches were dimmer and dimmer. You
seemed to see out of the darkness gleaming lights, and companies of
revellers, out of which here and there was one trying to escape. And
then the wide plains in the night, and the white vision of the angel in
the distance, and here and there by different paths a fugitive striving
to follow. "Oh, sir," said the little Pilgrim, "how did you learn to do
it? You have never been there."

"It was the master, not I; and I cannot tell you if he has ever been
there. When the Father has given you that gift, you can go to many
places, without leaving the one where you are. And then he has heard
what the angels say."

"And will they all get safe at the last? and even that great spirit, he
that fell from Heaven--"

The painter shook his head, and said, "It is not permitted to you and me
to know such great things. Perhaps the wise will tell you if you ask
them: but for me I ask the Father in my heart and listen to what He
says."

"That is best!" the little Pilgrim said; and she asked the Father in her
heart: and there came all over her such a glow of warmth and happiness
that her soul was satisfied. She looked in the painter's face and
laughed for joy. And he put out his hands as if welcoming some one, and
his countenance shone; and he said--

"My son had a great gift. He was a master born, though it was not given
to me. He shall paint it all for us so that the heart shall rejoice; and
you will come again and see."