O God, dost Thou see me praying to Thee? Dost Thou see that I have bent my aged knees, and am crouching in the dust--that I am kissing the very earth in token of my supplication? Perchance at times I have offended Thee? If that be so, yet grant me Thy forgiveness. Perchance at times I have been insolent and presuming--I have blamed Thee for my misfortunes--I have demanded when I should have asked? Yet now, I pray Thee, forgive me these things. Punish me if Thou wilt--punish me howsoever Thou pleasest: only spare us the life of our son. Yea, spare him, I beseech Thee. I do not ask this of Thy mercy, nor of Thy pity, but of Thy _justice_: for Thou art old in years, as even am I, and wouldst the better comprehend me for that. Evil men have tried to kill our son--cruel, pitiless men who lurked in dark places and cast stones at him. Yea, they lurked in dark places, and cast stones at him, the cowardly villains! Yet suffer them not to have achieved their evil purpose, seeing that they are men who do offend Thee with their misdeeds, and pollute Thy earth with their abominations. Staunch Thou, rather, the blood of our beloved son, and preserve to us his life. When Thou didst take away from me my riches, did I beseech and importune Thee to give me back my possessions, my friends, my fame, my talents? Did I, O God? No, never did I. I asked not even that my talents should be restored to me; and Thou Thyself knowest that a man's talents are more to him than life itself. Perchance, thought I, these things must be; so I bore them--bore them ever without complaining. Yet now I beseech Thee--here on my knees, and kissing the very dust of earth before Thee--that Thou wilt restore to us our little son. Yea, I kiss the very earth in token of my supplication. [_The Man and his Wife rise to their feet again. The Being in Grey has listened to these prayers without making any sign._] ~The Man's Wife.~~ My dearest one, I cannot help fearing that your prayer was not sufficiently humble in tone. Methought there was too much of the note of pride in it. ~The Man.~~ No, no, my wife. I did but speak Him fair, as man would speak to man. Surely He cannot prefer flatterers to open, self-respecting men who speak the truth? No, wife; you do not understand Him. I feel quite confident again now, and my mind is at ease--it is even cheerful. I feel that I can still do a little to help our son, and the thought gives me comfort. Go now, and see if he is asleep. He ought to have a good, sound sleep. [The Man's Wife leaves the room, and the Man seems to throw a glance as of gratitude towards the Being in Grey; after which he takes up the doll again, and begins to play with it, and to kiss its long red nose. Presently his Wife returns.] ~The Man.~~ (_With cheerful animation_). Yes, I feel sure now that I am' forgiven for my late insult to this little friend of mine. And how is our dear boy? ~His Wife.~~ He looks so dreadfully pale! ~The Man.~~