"We must go away. Out in the great world there are men and women
and children waiting for you. You've a beautiful work to do; and
one can't do one's work on a mountain-top."

"Why not? I like it here, and I've always been here."

"Not always, David; six years. You were four when I brought you
here. You don't remember, perhaps."

David shook his head. His eyes were again dreamily fixed on the
sky.

"I think I'd like it--to go--if I could sail away on that little
cloud-boat up there," he murmured.

The man sighed and shook his head.

"We can't go on cloud-boats. We must walk, David, for a way--and
we must go soon--soon," he added feverishly. "I must get you
back--back among friends, before--"

He rose unsteadily, and tried to walk erect. His limbs shook, and
the blood throbbed at his temples. He was appalled at his
weakness. With a fierceness born of his terror he turned sharply
to the boy at his side.

"David, we've got to go! We've got to go--TO-MORROW!"

"Father!"