“It began in a village street and led from there into a forest. You know the kind of place—a rather different kind from what one meets in this world; a bit better done, perhaps. Well, Virginius had really been most ingenious. I could not for the life of me understand why a mere child should be shown such a scene as this, so I kept myself on the alert to help if need be in case of emergency. Moreover, I resented this intrusion. The forest was mine, the path mine, and I marvelled at his audacity in daring to portray them. Now Deborah got very tired of that walk, for it was longer than she reckoned or than she knew; moreover, it was a trial of faith, as she wasn’t quite sure what she was going after. But she went on for a long time fairly well. At last she fell down” (here he laughed). “They all fall down, you know, and then what was my surprise to see approaching from an opposite path that gentleman,” and he pointed to the picture. “You may be sure at this point I was fully awake. ‘Now then, Virginius,’ said I, in my most even voice, ‘we’ve had quite enough of your foolery. This forest belongs to me.’ “Now I believe Virginius’s idea had been that this man should help Deborah out of the forest, or that they should help each other out. But that did not suit my way of thinking. Virginius was doing his best to make the man say something, so he paid no attention to me, but I knew he had odds against him. The gentleman refused to hear the weak voice, since by this time I had interposed, and all Virginius’s good intentions fell through.” Here Genius, who had been greatly interested throughout, interrupted him. “And do you mean to say he went away without saying a word?” “Who? Virginius?” “Why, no. The human being.” “Well, no. In this world we are never distinctly brutal to each other till we cannot avoid it, and politeness oils the wheels of life. So when he had turned away he turned back again. ‘Will you keep your father waiting?’ said he. “‘What’s the good of letting the cat out of the bag?’ said I; so he took my advice and went on alone, which was just as I wanted. But Deborah, who didn’t need much telling when she was going in quest of her father, got up, and that was rather different from what I wanted.” “And what happened to them?” “Well, I can hardly tell. I believe she saw a Will-o’-the-wisp shining in the forest and took it for something else.” He looked intently at Genius and laughed. Then he continued,— “As for the man, well, I would not presume to say.” “And that is the end of the dream?” “Exactly and truthfully.” “The Will-o’-the-wisp?” “Certainly.” “Then there was another fall?” “Well, yes, I expect so. She muddled and draggled through the black mire till she didn’t know whether she was standing or falling.” “And that is the end of the dream?” “How many more times do you want telling? Did ever anybody ever see anything else in the silent forest besides Will-o’-the-wisps?”