’Mistress,’ said the old woman, ’be it still too late to bid you turn back? I tell’y I don’t believe as the master be dead. I don’t believe it, though I saw him dead with my own eyes. For the eyes of the understanding be keener and clearer than they of the flesh. When Saul the persecutor were cast to the ground on his way to Damascus, he opened his eyes and saw no man. That be the state of most. They’ve their eyes open, but they sees naught that they ought to see. They goes through the world and they don’t see the snares that be set on every side, and the angels that compass them about, and the Providence as is leading of them. The eyes of the flesh be open, but the eyes of the understanding see nothing. With the eyes of the soul I see the master still alive. Afore you came to Welltown I saw you; and I saw what was to be, in a vision, and whether I were in the body or out of the body at the time I cannot tell—God knoweth; but this I do say, that what I then saw with the spiritual eye don’t accord no ways with what the natural eye declares. But what do I speak of this to you for as if you knowed naught about the spiritual eye? Sure alive, you lead a life of prayer as do I. Well, I will tell’y what were revealed to me. I fell into a trance, having my eyes open, and I saw the master with his arms round you—the Bride of Snow—and he looked up to you, seeking in you that he never saw.’ Mirelle bowed her face in her hands. ’And with the warmth of his heart you melted away, drop by drop. I’ve a seen how you’ve a been thawing right away ever since the day he brought you to Welltown, tear by tear—as see! you be melting now. And in my vision I saw that you dissolved clean away and your place knew you no more; but nevertheless the master remained, with his arms extended and his eyes uplifted, as though still seeking you, till he grew cold, and his hair white, and his tears ice, and his heart were frozen dead. You was gone first, and, after a space, he; it be against the truth of my vision that he should die first and you after.’ ’Geneviève, there can be no doubt whatever about what has happened. I would cheerfully give my life to restore his, but that cannot be. I know for certain that he is dead. I have many and weighty reasons for so believing.’ ’What reasons? It be true enough that your diamonds and the purse were found on him, as well as his own old clothes that I’ve a sewed the brass buttons on—I know them well. But what about that? The devil be crafty, and given power to deceive.’ ’I have other reasons.’ ’I ask you what? You may tell me, for we shall never meet in the flesh again.’