"But I mean _what_ has she done to live--to provide for herself; she has kept the house?" "To be sure, and by her own exertions. She has never been willing to accept pecuniary aid from any friend, not even from Mr. Buzzby, or the Colonel. I am in a position to know that Mr. Van Ostend did his best to persuade her to accept something just as a loan." "But what has she been doing?" "She has been taking the quarrymen for meals the last six years, Champney--at times she has had their families to board with her, as many as the house could accommodate." The arm which his own held was withdrawn with a jerk. Champney Googe faced him: they were on the new iron bridge over the Rothel. "You mean to say my mother--_my_ mother, Aurora Googe, has been keeping a quarrymen's boarding-house all these years?" "Yes; it is legitimate work." "My mother--_my_ mother--" he kept repeating as he stood motionless on the bridge. He seemed unable to grasp the fact for a moment; then he laid his hand heavily on Father Honore's shoulder as if for support; he spoke low to himself, but the priest caught a few words: "I thank Thee--thank--for life--work--" He seemed to come gradually to himself, to recognize his whereabouts. He began to walk on, but very slowly. "Father Honore," he said, and his tone was deeply earnest but at the same time almost joyful, "I'm not going home to my mother empty-handed, I never intended to--I have work. I can work for her, free her from care, lift from her shoulders the burden of toil for my sake." "What do you mean, Champney?" "I made application to the manager of the Company this afternoon; I saw they were all strangers to me, and they took me on in the sheds--Shed Number Two. I went to work this afternoon. You see I know my trade; I learned it during the last six years. I can support her now--Oh--" He stopped short just as they were leaving the bridge; raised his head to the black skies above him, reached upwards with both hands palm outwards-- "--I thank my Maker for these hands; I thank Him that I can labor with these hands; I thank Him for the strength of manhood that will enable me to toil with these hands; I thank Him for my knowledge of good and evil; I thank Him that I have 'won sight out of blindness--'" his eyes strained to the skies above The Gore. The moon, struggling with the heavy drifting cloud-masses, broke through a confined ragged circle and, for a moment, its splendor shone upon the heights of The Gore; its effulgence paled the arc-lights in the quarries; a silver shaft glanced on the Rothel in its downward course, and afar touched the ruffled waters of Lake Mesantic.... * * * * * "I'll stay here on the lawn," he said five minutes afterwards upon reaching the house. A light was burning in his mother's bedroom; another shone from her sitting-room on the first floor.