Part 18 (1/2)

It's the needs of the place that are paramount. It's not so much the bringing of people here--they will hear of what has taken place and will come of their own accord, they will flock here in numbers as time goes on. But then--what? What can be done with them in this little village?

For a time perhaps they could be accommodated--but after that they must be turned away.”

”Turned away!” exclaimed Mrs. Thornton, in a hurt cry. ”Turned away from hope--to bitterness and misery again! No, no, they must not I Why”--she grasped her husband's arm agitatedly--”why couldn't we buy land and put little houses upon it where they could stay?”

Madison leaned suddenly toward her.

”I believe you've hit on the idea, Mrs. Thornton,” he said excitedly.

”Why not? It would be the finest thing that was ever done in the world.

But why not go further--this should not be a private enterprise with the burden on the few.” He turned abruptly to Mr. Thornton. ”What a monument from grateful hearts, what a tribute to that saintly soul a huge sanatorium, built and properly endowed, would be! And it is feasible--purely from the voluntary contributions of those who come here and have money--free as the air to the poor who are sick--free to _all_, for that matter--no one asked to give--but the poorest would gladly lay down their mites.”

”Yes--oh, yes!” cried Mrs. Thornton raptly.

”Yes,” admitted Mr. Thornton thoughtfully; ”that might be done.”

”There is no doubt of it,” a.s.serted Madison enthusiastically. ”It needs but the initiative on the part of some one, on our part, and the rest will take care of itself. But we must, of course, have the endors.e.m.e.nt of the Patriarch--why not go to the cottage now, at once, and talk it over?”

”Can we see _him_?” asked Mrs. Thornton wistfully. ”Oh, I would like to kneel at his feet and pour out my grat.i.tude. But see how all these people go no nearer than that row of trees, as though love or fear or reverence kept them from going further, as though it were almost forbidden, holy ground, as though they were held back by an invisible barrier in spite of themselves.”

”True,” said Madison; ”and I sense that very thing myself--all men must sense it after what has taken place, all must feel the presence of a power too majestic, too full of awe for the mind to grasp. This faith”--he threw out his hands in an impotent gesture--”we can only accept it unquestioningly, as a mighty thing, an actual, living, existent thing, even if we cannot fully understand. But I feel that with what we have in mind we have a right to go there now--and we should take that little lad who was cured as well--and his parents, they should come too.”

”And shall we see _him_?” Mrs. Thornton asked again tensely.

”Why, I do not know,” Madison replied; ”but at least we shall see his niece, Miss Vail, and it is with her in any case that we would have to discuss the plan, for the Patriarch, you know, is deaf and dumb and blind.”

”You know them, don't you?” Thornton inquired.

Madison smiled, a little strangely, a little deprecatingly.

”If one can speak of 'knowing' such as they--yes,” he answered. ”When I came two weeks ago, the Patriarch was not wholly blind, and he was very kind to me. I learned to love the gentle soul of the man, and in a way, skeptical though I was, I felt his power--but I never realized until this afternoon how stupendous, how immeasurable it was.”

”Let us go to the cottage, then,” said Thornton. ”Naida, dear, let me help you; it is quite a little distance and--”

She put out her hands in a happy, intimate way to hold him off.

”You can't realize it, Robert, can you? That dear, practical business head of yours makes it even harder for you than it is for me--and I can hardly realize it myself. But I _am_ cured, dear, and I'm well and strong, and I don't need any help--why, Robert, I am going to help you now, instead of always being a source of worry and anxiety to you. Come, let us go.”

”If you will walk slowly,” suggested Madison, ”I'll speak to the little Holmes boy and his parents, and bring them with us.”

He moved away as he spoke--in the direction of a racking cough, that rose above the confused, murmuring, whispering, shaken voices on every hand; and in a little knot of people he was, for a moment, pressed close against Pale Face Harry.

”All right,” whispered Pale Face Harry, ”it's in your pocket now--but, say, no more runs like that for me, I'm all in. I thought sure I was cured myself--I hadn't coughed for--”

”Never mind about that now,” said Madison rapidly. ”I want the crowd kept away from the doors of the bank vault if they show any tendency to get too close, though I don't think that'll happen--they're too numbed and scared yet. But you know the game. Keep the awe going and the 'holy ground' signs up. Anybody that steps across that stretch between the trees and the cottage on and after the present date of writing does it with bowed head and his shoes off--get the idea?”

Pale Face Harry grinned.

”That's easy,” he said. ”Anything'd steer 'em now--they're like sheep.

Leave it to me to keep the soft pedal on.”