Fast he held by the hand of the beggar girl as they went on their way together, but the film was withdrawing from his eye-balls. When he turned them up towards the heaven, if they could not yet discern that, they could get a glimpse of the earth! So he said within himself, "Surely we are in the right way; we shall yet come to the Beautiful Gate, and I shall have my sight again. Then will I hasten to my father's house, and when all is forgiven me, I will say to my mother, Receive this child I bring thee for a daughter, for she has been my guide through a weary way; and I know that my mother will love my little sister Grace." "And what then?" asked a voice in Tiny's soul, "_What_ then wilt thou do?" "Labour till I die!" exclaimed Tiny aloud, with flashing eyes. "But for what, Poet, wilt thou labour?" "FOR THE POOR WORLD THAT NEEDS ME," bravely cried he with a mighty voice. "Ah," whispered something faintly in his ear, with a taunting voice that pierced his heart like a sharp sword--"Ah, you said that once before; and fine work you made of it!" Tiny made no answer to this taunt, with words, but with all the strength of his great poet mind he cried again, "For the poor world that needs me!" and the vow was registered in Heaven, and angels were sent to strengthen him in that determination--him who was to sing the New Song to the Lord. A long way further Grace and Tiny walked together on their journey; they walked in silence, thinking so fast that, without knowing it, they were almost on a run in the attempt their feet were making to keep pace with their thoughts. At length Grace broke the silence with a sudden cry-- "Oh, Tiny! what is this?" Tiny looked up at the sound of her voice, and then he stood stock still as if he were turned to stone. "Oh, Tiny! can you see?" again exclaimed Grace, who was watching her companion's face in a great wonder; it became so changed all at once. "Oh, Tiny, Tiny, can you see?" she cried again, in terror, for he did not answer her, but grew paler and paler, swaying to and fro like a reed in the wind, until he fell like one dead upon the ground, saying--"My home! my home! and the Beautiful Gate is here!" Just then an old man came slowly from the forest, near to which they had come in their journey. His head was bent, he moved slowly like one in troubled thought, and as he walked he said to himself, "Long have I toiled, bringing these forest trees into this shape; and people know what I have done--of their own free will they call it a Beautiful Gate. But oh, if I could only find the blind one lying before it, ready to be carried through it to his mother! then, indeed, it would be beautiful to me. Oh Tiny! oh my child, when wilt thou return from thy long wanderings?" "Please, sir," said a child's voice--it was the voice of our little Grace, you know--"please, sir, will you come and help me?" and she ran back to the place where Tiny lay.