"'Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. "'And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing. "'And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing. "'Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself; is not puffed up, "'Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; "'Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. "'Charity never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away.'" As the last words died away in the far woodland, Trove and Darrel turned, wiping their eyes in silence. That flood of inspiration had filled them. Big thoughts had come drifting down with its current. They listened a while, but heard only the faint crackle of the fire. "Strange!" said Trove, presently. "Passing strange, and like a beautiful song," said Darrel. "It may be some insane fanatic." "Maybe, but he hath the voice of an angel," said the old man. They passed a sleepless night and were up early, packing to leave the woods. Darrel was to go in quest of the boy's father. Within a week he felt sure he should be able to find him. They skirted the pond, crossing a long ridge on its farther shore. At a spring of cool water in a deep ravine they halted to drink and rest. Suddenly they heard a sound of men approaching; and when the latter had come near, a voice, deep, vibrant, and musical as a harp-string, in these lines of Hamlet:-- "'Why right; you are i' the right; And so without more circumstance at all, I hold it fit that we shake hands and part; You as your business and desire shall point you; For every man has business and desire Such as it is; and for mine own part Look you, I'll go pray.'" Then said Darrel, loudly:-- "'These are but wild and whirling words, my lord.'" Two men, a guide in advance, came along the trail--one, a most impressive figure, tall, erect, and strong; its every move expressing grace and power. Again the deep music of his voice, saying:-- "'I'm sorry they offend you heartily; yes, faith, heartily.'" And Darrel rejoined, his own rich tone touching the note of melancholy in the other:-- "'There's no offence, my lord.'" "'What Horatio is this?" the stranger inquired, offering his hand. "A player?" "Ay, as are all men an' women," said Darrel, quickly. "But I, sor, have only a poor part. Had I thy lines an' makeup, I'd win applause."