He took up the lamp that was kept burning in the hall and looked out through the bars. There was nothing in the darkness but an icy mist, which appeared to be rising from the ground. “Only another of my dreams,” he thought, and he laid his hand on the slide to close it. Then he heard a sigh that seemed to rise out of the ground, and at the same moment the dog uttered a deep bay. He laid hold of the door and pulled it quickly open. At his feet the figure of a man was kneeling, bent double and huddled up. “Paul!” he cried in an excited whisper. Brother Paul raised his head. His face was frightfully changed. It was gray and wasted. His eyes wandered, his lips trembled, and he looked like a man who had been flogged. “Good Lord, what a wreck!” thought John. He helped him to rise and enter. The poor creature's limbs were stiff with cold, and he stumbled from weakness as he crossed the threshold. “But, thank God, you are back and no harm done!” said John. “How anxious we've been! You must never go out again--never! There, brother, sit there.” The wandering eyes looked up with a supplicating expression. “Forgive me. Brother Storm----” But John would not listen. “Hush, brother! what have I to forgive? How cold you are! Your hands are like ice. What can I do? There's no fire in the house at this time of night--even in the kitchen it will be out now. But wait, I can rub you with my hands. See, I'm warm and strong. There's a deal of blood in me yet. That's better, isn't it? Tingling, eh? That's right--that's good! Now for your feet--your feet will be colder still.” “No, brother, no. I ought to be kissing the feet of everybody in the house and asking the prayers of the community, and yet you----” “Tut! what nonsense! Let me take off this shoe. Dear me, how it sticks! Why, you've worn it through and through. Look! What a mercy the snow was hard! If there had been thaw, now! How far you must have walked!” “Yes, I've wandered a long way, brother.” “You shall tell me all about it. I want to hear everything--every single thing.” “There's nothing to tell. I've failed in my errand--that's all.” John, who was on his knees, drew back and looked up. “Do you mean, then---Have you not seen your sister?” “No, she's gone, and nobody knows anything about her.” “Well, perhaps it's for the best, brother. God's will be done, you know. If you had found her--who knows?--you might have been tempted--But tell me everything.” “I can not do that, I'm so weak, and it's not worth while.” “But I want to hear all that happened. See, your feet are all right now--I've rubbed them warm again. Though I fast so much and look so thin I've a deal of life in me. And I've been pouring it all into you, haven't I? That's because I want you to revive and be strong and tell me everything. Hush! Speak low; don't waken anybody! Did you find the hospital?” “Yes.”