"Now? What do you want of me?"

"You shall be shown."

The smoke ebbed low and swung away his consciousness, and even the place
grew dim about him, but the Presence was there. Always through suspended
space as he was borne along, and after, when the smoke gave way, and
air, blessed air, was wafted in, there was the Presence. If it had not
been for that he could not have borne the awfulness of nothing that
surrounded him. Always there was the Presence!

There was a bandage over his eyes for days; people speaking in whispers;
and when the bandage was taken away there were the white hospital walls,
so like the walls of smoke at first in the dim light, high above him.
When he had grown to understand it was but hospital walls, he looked
around for the Presence in alarm, crying out, "Where is He?"

Bill Ward and Tennelly and Pat were there, huddled in a group by the
door, hoping he might recognize them.

"He's calling for Steve!" whispered Pat, and turned with a gulp while
the tears rolled down his cheeks. "He must have seen him go!"

The nurse laid him down on the pillow again, replacing the bandage. When
he closed his eyes the Presence came back, blessed, sweet--and he was at
peace.

The days passed; strength crept back into his body, consciousness to his
brain. The bandage was taken off once more, and he saw the nurse and