When or how the light died away, we are not told. My own fancy is that it went on shining but paling all the night upon the lonely mount, to vanish in the dawn of the new day. When he came down from the mountain the virtue that dwelt in him went forth no more in light to the eyes, but in healing to the poor torn frame of the epileptic boy. So he vanished at last from the eyes of his friends, only to draw nearer--with a more intense and healing presence--to their hearts and minds. Even so come, Lord Jesus. End of Project Gutenberg's Miracles of Our Lord, by George MacDonald