"Lead on," he said; "I am with you. Take me to Lluellyn, the Teacher!" Joseph turned. He saw that by the wayside there was a rough arm-chair hung between two long poles. Still moving as a man in a dream, he sat down on it. In a moment he was lifted up on the shoulders of four men, and began to ascend a narrow, winding path among the heather. On and up! On and up! Now they have passed out of ordinary ways, and are high upon the trackless hills. A dead silence surrounds them; the air is keen and life-giving; the workaday world seems very far away. On and up! Joseph is carried to his fate. Suddenly the old man who walked in front stopped. "Blessed be him who cometh in the name of the Lord!" he cried, in a deep, musical voice that woke thunderous echoes in the lonely way. For near upon an hour the strange procession continued among the heather and bracken, through wild defiles and passes. At last, with singular and startling suddenness, the party entered the huge mass of fleecy cloud that veiled the mountain-top. All around was thick, impenetrable mist. Everything was blotted out by the thick curtain, the footsteps of the chair-bearers sounded like footsteps upon wool. Then, without any other intimation than a few low words from the leader of the party, the journey came to an end, the chair was carefully lowered to the ground, and Joseph alighted. A huge granite boulder stood close by. He sat down upon it, wondering with eager curiosity what was to happen next, looking round him with keen, searching eyes in a vain endeavor to pierce the ghostly, swaying walls of mist which hemmed him in on every side. The old man stepped up to him. "Master," he said again, "our business is at an end. We have brought you to the place where we have been told to bring you, and must say farewell until we meet again." Joseph started. "I do not understand," he said, in a voice into which something almost like fear had come.... "I do not understand. Do you mean to leave me here alone? I am a sick man. I know nothing of where I am. Where is Lluellyn Lys?" His voice sounded strained and almost shrill in its discomfort and surprise. If the old man appreciated the intonation in the voice of his questioner he did not show it. "Have no fear, master," he said. "What I do, I do by command of the Teacher. No harm will come to you." Joseph suddenly seemed to wake from his dream. A great sense of irritation, almost of anger, began to animate him. He was once more the old Joseph--the man who had walked with Hampson in the Commercial Road before the accident had struck him down. "That's all very well," he said sharply. "Perhaps no harm will happen to me, but will Mr. Lluellyn Lys come to me? That is the question in which I am particularly interested at this moment. I don't know in the least where I am! I am too feeble to walk more than a few yards. I can't stay here alone until--"