Knowles, more and more eager, went on to describe the settlement as it had been pictured to him; the quaint, quiet village on the shores of "the Beautiful River," the rolling hills of woodland, the quiet valleys over which their flocks wandered, the simple pastoral work in which all joined; the day begun and ended with music;--even the rich, soft tints of the fresh Western sky about them were not forgotten, nor the picturesque dresses of the silent, primitive people. "A home in which to forget all pain and sore, boy," ended the old man, gulping down a sigh, and then falling into a heavy silence. It was long before I broke it. "They do not marry?" "No," anxiously, as if I had reached the core of the truth in this matter at last. "It was their founder's scheme, as I believe, to lift them above all taint of human passion,--to bring them by pure work, solitude, and contact with a beautiful nature into a state of being where neither earthly love, nor hate, nor ambition can enter,--a sphere of infinite freedom, and infinite love for Him and all His creatures." There was no doubting the fire of rapt enthusiasm in his eye, rising and looking out across the moonlit fields as if already he saw the pleasant hills of Beulah. "Thank God for George Rapp! he has found a home where a man can stand alone,"--stretching out his arms as if he would have torn out whatever vestige of human love tugged at his sick old heart, his eye hunting out Tony as he spoke. The boy, startled from his sleep, muttered, and groped as a baby will for its mother's breast or hand. No hand met the poor little fingers, and they fell on the pillow empty, the child going to sleep again with a forlorn little cry. Knowles watched him, the thick lips under his moustache growing white. "I purpose," he said, "that next week you and I shall go to these people, and, if possible, become members of their community,--cut loose from all these narrow notions of home and family, and learn to stand upright and free under God's heaven. The very air breathed by these noble enthusiasts will give us strength and lofty thoughts. Think it over, Humphreys." "Yes." He moved to the door,--held it open uncertainly. "I'll leave the boy here to-night. He got into a foolish habit of sleeping in my arms when he was a baby; it's time he was broke of it." "Very well." "He must learn to stand alone, eh?" anxiously. "Good night";--and in a moment I heard his heavy steps on the stairs, stopping, then going on faster, as if afraid of his own resolution. In the middle of the night I was wakened by somebody fumbling for Tony at my side,--"Afraid the child would prove troublesome,"--and saw him go off with the boy like a mite in his arms, growling caresses like a lioness who has recovered her whelp. I say lioness, for, with all his weight of flesh and coarseness, Knowles left the impression on your mind of a sensitive, nervous woman. * * * * *