The gambler drew off his hat and raised his face to the sky, asking mutely if Heaven would permit this crime. "Yet," said David, "I forgive you." "You forgive me?" echoed Connor through his teeth. "Yes, for the fire of the temptation has burned out. Let us forget the world beyond the mountains." "What is your proof that you are right in staying here?" "The voice of God." "You have spoken to Him, perhaps?" The irony passed harmless by the raised head of David. "I have spoken to Him," he asserted calmly. "I see," nodded the gambler. "You keep Him in that room, no doubt?" "It is true. His spirit is in the Room of Silence." "You've seen His face?" A numbness fell on the mind of Connor as he saw his hopes destroyed by the demon of bigotry. "Only His voice has come to me," said David. "It speaks to you?" "Yes." Connor stared in actual alarm, for this was insanity. "The four," said David, "spoke to Him always in that room. He is there. And when Matthew died he gave me this assurance--that while the walls of this house stood together God would not desert me or fail to come to me in that room until I love another thing more than I love God." "And how, David, do you hear the voice? For while you were there I was in the patio, close by, and yet I heard no whisper of a sound from the room." "I shall tell you. When I entered the Room of Silence just now your words had set me on fire. My mind was hot with desire of power over other men. I forgot the palace you built for me with your promises. And then I knew that it had been a temptation to sin from which the voice was freeing me. "Could a human voice have spoken more clearly than that voice spoke to my heart? Anxiously I called before my eyes the image of Benjamin to ask for His judgment, but your face remained an unclouded vision and was not dimmed by the will of the Lord as He dims creatures of evil in the Room of Silence. Thereby I knew that you are indeed my brother." The brain of Connor groped slowly in the rear of these words. He was too stunned by disappointment to think clearly, but vaguely he made out that David had dismissed the argument and was now asking him to come for a walk by the lake. "The lake's well enough," he answered, "but it occurs to me that I've got to get on with my journey." "You must leave me?" There was such real anxiety in his voice that Connor softened a little. "I've got a lot to do," he explained. "I only stopped over to rest my nags, in the first place. Then this other idea came along, but since the voice has rapped it there's nothing for me to do but to get on my way again." "It is a long trip?" "Long enough." "The Garden of Eden is a lonely place." "You'll have the voice to cheer you up."