Had it really been given to him to be their salvation? Had they found eternal peace and joy because he had not fallen on the way? Then indeed no sacrifice had been too great, no trial, no fatigue too vast. And in sign of gratitude they had displayed before his wondering eye the most divine colours he had ever seen, filling his artist soul with the deep joy of beauty for which he never could be thankful enough. He turned again to look at the pool, and as he did so there on the opposite bank he saw an apparition which made his heart stand still. A very old man, tall and gaunt, wrapped in grey flowing folds, a thin cloak suspended from his shoulders, a weather-beaten hat shading his face, his long beard falling far down on his breast. In his hands he clasped a thick stick on which he leaned. With a cry of joy Eric stretched out his hands towards that shadowy figure, for was it not his old and venerated friend the hermit! The grey vision turned, and with hollow eyes looked at him long and earnestly, with such a wonderful expression of loving affection that it made tears gather in the boy's eyes. But his beloved old master was also transparent and ghostly like the lost souls that had at last found peace. Was this his spirit that had left his earthly body? Would God in His mercy grant the beautiful miracle that through his courage and persistence he should also have brought rest and redemption to this weary sinner whose precious words he could never forget? His whole soul yearned to hear the dear tired voice once more, to drink anew from that source of wisdom which had so refreshed his spirit. Yet he had the cruel apprehension that this joy could be his no more. "O Father, I want to hear thee speak," he cried, but no answer came from the other side of the dark water. The old man only continued to stare. Then an awful despair gripped at Eric's heart, for he felt as if he had lost his dearest treasure. Why was life so cruelly full of lights and shades? Why was the full cup always dashed from the lips? "Father, father," he cried, "I do so long for the sound of thy voice; speak, oh, speak, I beseech thee," but there was no response; only silence deep and absolute, and a second later a faint echo of his own words whispering round the granite boulders. Then something very wonderful was revealed to his sight; there beside the old man stood a shining translucid woman, a woman whose face he could but faintly discern. Her head was bent back and her two uplifted arms shone like rays of light, pointing to the sky.