In my grief for him everything else had for the time been forgotten. Everything had been dispelled by this great calamity, and what was hardest of all to bear was that I was not sure that my father was--somewhere. I could not think of him as being in hell. I could not think of God, father, and hell at the same time, but was he anywhere? "Father," I cried, "let me know that you are somewhere! Let me hear you speak, if only a word; only to know that all is well." The night was very still. Not a breath of wind stirred, the harvest moon was just sinking into the sea, and the water was all aglow with its light. But I heard no voice. Even the sea made no noise, so still were its waters. "Ah!" I cried, "my father is gone, for ever gone, and I am cursed with the curse of my people." Was it fancy? Was it the voice of man or the voice of God that I heard in answer to my despairing cry? Fancy it could not be, for it was past midnight and I stood alone on the great headland. Surely God spoke to me, for there, alone in the silence, I heard my father's last words repeated. How they came I know not, but this I know, in tones sweeter than thought can fancy came the glorious message, "There is no curse, God is love." After that I was able to think and connect, link by link, the events of the evening. And all this was but the twilight which told of the coming night. CHAPTER XI THE CALL TO RENOUNCE Whereat Siddartha turned, And lo! the moon shone by the crab! the stars In that same silver order long foretold Stood in range to say, "This is the right!--Choose thou The way of greatness or the way of good; To reign a King of Kings, or wander lone, Crownless, and homeless that the world be helped." --_The Light of Asia._ After this I went back to my room, and tried to realise the true position of matters. One by one I thought over the events of the day, and tried to understand their purport. "There's Providence in the fall of a sparrow," said Hamlet, and I, being to a certain extent a believer in this, fancied that everything through which I had gone was an essential part of the drama of my life. First, there was Ruth's preference for Wilfred and her dislike for me. Well, I must bear that. Besides, I was not sure. It is always the function of a true-hearted woman to speak well of the absent one, especially if he be maligned. I would not yet allow myself to be downcast. Then there was the light on the great rock, the rock of evil repute, the rock that lured vessels to their destruction. I thought again and again of this. Then there was the appearance of Deborah Teague, who told me the light foreboded evil, while the weird dark form between the prongs told the same story. On other occasions I might have laughed at all this; but that terrible calamity following so soon after the warning impressed me strangely.