pipe to keep off the mosquitoes. He lay on his back, staring up into the blue, which seemed to recede and deepen, drawing his thoughts up with it. And his mind turned again to that inexplicable secret of the universe which so puzzled him and which he so struggled to interpret. For all Dick's cynical, clear-sighted unbelief he believed that Dick was nearer the solution than himself. But Dick had Jennifer to help him. Tempest had to find his way along a lonely road. And why should that be so? Why should one man have and another man lose? Why should evil trip the feet up on the very altar-steps? Why should doubt be born of belief and belief of doubt? Why, and why, and again, why? Where was the reason of it all?
An ant ran up his hand, and he raised it to watch as the little thing darted this way and that, afraid to make excursions up his arm, afraid to drop over into the unknown. It rested at last, accepting the inevitable and trusting in the fortune which had guided it so far. Tempest lowered his hand and let it run off into the sand. He had found the first word of that interpretation which he sought, and it was one which had been about him all the time. That word was Faith, and by the very nature of it he knew that it would be the only one which he and his generation—and perhaps many generations after him—would learn. And by its very nature it gave rich promise of other words, other revelations to be understood when the first was fully mastered. Then, and not until then, would come the progression, even as our forefathers progressed from arrows to knives and from verbal to written speech. Faith, not blind and stupid, but Faith completely equipped and strong and eager for the next step. In some strange way Dick's unbelief had come to an acceptance of a faith of some sort. Tempest's years of belief had found it more difficult. Tempest believed that he could interpret that. In his weariness the beggared heart in Dick had turned gratefully to the crumbs which fell from the table, where Tempest in his pride and impatience had demanded cake.
One white line of cloud drew itself delicately across the curve of blue, and the sun-warmth soaked into him as he
