Then, in his strangely hollow voice, unreal and ghostly, and with uncertain hesitation, an accent that rendered the words all but unintelligible, he made answer: "A man--yea, a living man. Not a ghost. A man! and I speak the English. Verily, I am ancient. Blind, I go unto my fathers soon. But not until I have had speech with you. Oh, this miracle--English speech with those to whom it still be a living tongue!" He choked, and for a space could say no more. He trembled violently. Stern saw his frail body shake, heard sobs, and knew the ancient one was weeping. "Well, great Scott! What d'you think of _that?_" exclaimed the engineer. "Say, Beatrice--am I dreaming? Do you see it, too?" "Of course! He's a survivor, don't you understand?" she answered, with quicker intuition than his. "He's one of an elder generation--he remembers more! Perhaps he can help us!" she added eagerly. And without more ado, running to the old man, she seized his hand and pressed it to her bosom. "Oh, father!" cried she. "We are Americans in terrible distress! You understand us--you, alone, of all these people here. Save us, if you can!" The patriarch shook his head, where still some sparse and feeble hairs clung, snowy-white. "Alas!" he answered, intelligibly, yet still with that strange, hesitant accent of his--"alas, what can I do? I am sent to you, verily, on a different mission. They do not understand, my people. They have forgotten all. They have fallen back into the night of ignorance. I alone remember; I only know. They mock me. But they fear me, also. "Oh, woman!"--and, dropping his staff a-clatter to the floor, he stretched out a quivering hand--"oh, woman! and oh, man from above--speak! Speak, that I may hear the English from living lips!" Stern, blinking with astonishment there in the half-gloom, drew near. "English?" he queried. "Haven't you ever heard it spoken?" "Never! Yet, all my life, here in this lost place, have I studied and dreamed of that ancient tongue. Our race once spoke it. Now it is lost. That magnificent language, so rich and pure, all lost, forever lost! And we--" "But what _do_ you speak down here?" exclaimed the engineer, with eager interest. "It seemed to me I could almost catch something of it; but when it came down to the real meaning, I couldn't. If we could only talk with these people here, your people, they might give us some kind of a show! Tell me!" "A--a show?" queried the blind man, shaking his head and laying his other hand on Stern's shoulder. "Verily, I cannot comprehend. An entertainment, you mean? Alas, no, friends; they are not hospitable, my people. I fear me; I fear me greatly that--that--" He did not finish, but stood there blinking his sightless eyes, as though with some vast effort of the will he might gain knowledge of their features. Then, very deftly, he ran his fingers over Stern's bearded face. Upon the engineer's lips his digits paused a second.