"No, we don't, do we? It wasn't light and dark together. First it was dark, and then it was light. I couldn't see a wision in the dark, could I?" "I should say not, Sal; but I never was in a trance, you know. I'm not one o' the prophesying sort." "So it _must_ ha' been light when it come. There was all sorts o' things flying about--birds, and angels, and spirits. It was splendid. Then all of a sudden a king comes to me done up in a bundle." "Pharaoh," suggested Seth, in the midst of a quiet fit of laughter. "Yes, Pharer, it was," said Sally, eagerly adopting the suggestion. "Because that's the only old king you ever heard of." "Yes. Well, Pharer come----" "Stop a minute, Sal. What was he like?" "Didn't you never see him?" "I never set eyes on the old gentleman." A deeper puckering of Sally's eyebrows, and a tighter interlacing of her little fingers. "He was done up in a bundle, you know, and I didn't see much of him." "Was he like the doll outside old Adam's rag and bone shop?" "A little bit." "Only he didn't have a black face," "No," said Sally, following the cues with heaving bosom. "But his face _was_ painted." "In course it was." "In stripes. Red, and yellow, and green." "Yes, he looked so rum! And he had a big gold crown on his head." "Ah," said Seth, in a tone of sly satisfaction, "now I can say I've seen Pharaoh if anybody asks me. Go on, Sal." "Well, he come, and said----" "Ho! ho! Sally! he spoke to you, did he?" "Yes, he said a lot." "Now," mused Seth, hugging himself in great enjoyment, "how did he speak?" "With his tongue," replied Sally, with precocious sharpness. "Yes, yes, with his tongue, of course. But in what language? It couldn't be Hebrew, because he hated the Jews, and wouldn't have lowered himself to it. Besides if he had, you wouldn't have understood him." "Not in a trance?" asked Sally in a cunning tone. "I should say," replied Seth very gravely, "not even in a trance." "Why, then, he spoke what I'm speaking to you, and what you're speaking to me--jist the same. 'Git up, Sally,' he says, 'and come along o' me; I'm going to show you somethink.' I got up and went along of him." "The people must have stared, Sal, to see you and Pharaoh walking together." "We didn't mind that. We walks straight to the horspital, and there's father laying in bed. 'Shall I ever git better?' says father to Pharer. 'No,' says Pharer, 'you'll never git better. Do you hear, Sal? Father'll never git better.' Then we goes out of the horspital, me and Pharer, and walks miles and miles into the country, and we come to a big, big place with stone walls. 'Mother's in there, Sal,' says Pharer; and I peeps through and sees poor mother working and working." "Was it a prison, then, that mother was in?" "No, it was a workus. 'If you was to go to her,' says Pharer, she'd be turned away. She's got eighteen pound a year.' Is that a lot?" asked Sally, suddenly breaking off.