confidence, heroic in its agony, that all might gaze upon from a common
standpoint and know--as faith.

No whispering breeze stirred the young leaves in the trees; in the
stillness of the afternoon came only the heavy, pulsing throb of
Nature's breathing. One hundred, two, three hundred, they moved along,
slow, sinuous, troubled, their eyes straight before them or upon the
ground at their feet--only the children looked with frightened, startled
eyes into their parents' faces, and clung the closer.

Out upon the wagon track they debouched and spread in a long, thin line
beneath the maples on either side of the Flopper--and waited.




--X--

THE MIRACLE


There was utter silence now--the tread of shuffling feet was gone--no
man moved--it seemed as though no man _breathed_--they stood as carven
things, inanimate, men, women and children strained forward, their faces
drawn, tense and rigid. In the very air, around them, everywhere,
imprisoning them, clutching like an icy hand at the heart, something
unseen, a dread, intangible presence weighed them down and lay heavy
upon them. What was to come? What drear tragedy was to be enacted? What
awful mockery was to fall upon this maimed and mutilated creature within
whose deformed and pitiful body there too was a human soul?