roarin' in de ea's dat we can't heah de 'still small voice' allus a-tellin' de truf. Yes," he concluded, "dat's strainin' an' de p'int."
Hernando gave an imperceptible start. "Cured." Yes, he was cured, had the right to a place beside other men in this world of affairs. A right good old world it was, too, with its triumphs and defeats, its joys and its sorrows, its "marryings and giving in marriage!" "Cured!" What hopes that word awoke in him, thrilling him with a sweetness that defied analysis. Had the wise man really found wisdom, and were all her ways "ways of pleasantness and all her paths peace"? Why, oh, why did this old world of unrest, of human desires still call to him! Had he not renounced it that he might win a better? Surely it could have no claims on him now. Yet a wave almost of resentment surged over him at the thought.
"Massa!"
Hernando turned absently toward his questioner and did not notice that Eletheer's chair was empty.
