"I cannot have any one know that Richard does not obey us," insisted Mary Alcestis. "You can look in at the window. Thomasina's curtains are always up to the sky and Dr. Green hasn't any in his front office." Dr. Lister put on a raincoat and took an umbrella and started out against the high wind. The search seemed unreal, weird, impossible. Richard was not at Thomasina's, for the house was dark, and Dr. Green was alone. Dr. Lister went to the assembly room and to the chapel and to all the rooms of the recitation building. He stood in the doorway of each one until a bright flash of lightning or several flashes had illuminated each corner. At the door of Dr. Scott's study he knocked. Within, Dr. Scott sat at the window watching the wide valley magically illuminated by the flashing light, which was now rosy, now bright blue. He had seen nothing of Richard. Dr. Lister said that he had brought Richard an umbrella thinking that he was here. He supposed that by now he was at home. Under the first heavy drops of rain, he hurried back to his house. As he neared the porch, the sight of a figure approaching from the opposite direction, or, rather, being blown from the opposite direction, startled and relieved him. "Richard!" said he. He saw to his amazement that the figure was not that of Richard, but the broader form of his mother. "I thought I would look for him," she gasped, blown finally to the porch step and there firmly seized by her husband. "I couldn't stay in the house and do nothing." "Where have you been?" "I thought he might be about s-s-somewhere. I went to see." She quickened her steps. "Perhaps he is here. Oh, I am sure he has come home!" But he had not come home. His mother called as she opened the door and was answered only by a faint echo from the upper story. She walked with tottering step into the study and sat down and smoothed her hair back into its proper place. Her face was contorted, her lips trembling. Dr. Lister laid his hand on her shoulder. "My dear, you are so strange! What is back of this? Had you any words with him about anything?" Mrs. Lister laid her hands palm upward on her lap. With a start at each new roll of thunder she began to speak. The first words made her husband frown; they had long been the sign and signal of trouble. As he listened, he grew amazed, then sick at heart. "My brother Basil--" Mrs. Lister paused and looked dumbly at her husband. "Yes, my dear--" "My brother Basil left us to--to follow the daughter of the village tavern-keeper. That was the last straw, that was what worked on my father's health and finally killed him. He never saw Basil again. You've said to me so often that Basil was past, that we needn't think of him or trouble about him or break our hearts over him. But he is not past. Nothing ever is. You cannot get away from the things you do and that other people do. They keep on forever, from generation to generation." "Mary Alcestis, tell me plainly what you mean!"