It was on returning hurriedly from a trip to one of these places on the upper river--the property of one Marie Estelle Josephine Ramsey de La Rose, widowed at "Yellow Tavern"--that he sought the ferry skiff on the night old man Israel answered the call. VIII Little the old man dreamed, while he waited, midstream, trying to think out his problem, that the solution was so near at hand. We have seen how the old wife waited and prayed on the shore; how with her shaded mind she groped, as many a wiser has done, for a comforting, common-sense understanding of faith, that intangible "substance of things hoped for," that elusive "evidence of things not seen." In a moment after she heard the creaking of the timbers as the skiff chafed the landing, even while she rose, as was her habit, to see who might be coming over so late, she dimly perceived two men approaching, Israel and another; and presently she saw that Israel held the man's hand and that he walked unsteadily. She started, fearing that her man was hurt; but before she could find voice of fear or question, Israel had drawn the stranger to her and was saying in a broken voice: "Hannah! Hannah! Heah Mars' Harol'!" Only a moment before, with her dim eyes fixed upon the sky, she had experienced a realization of faith, and believed herself confidently awaiting her master's coming. And yet, seeing him now in the flesh before her, she exclaimed: "What foolishness is dis, ole man? Don't practice no jokes on me to-night, Isrul!" Her voice was almost gruff, and she drew back as she spoke. But even while she protested, Harold had laid his hand upon her arm. "Mammy," he whispered huskily, "don't you know your 'indurin' devil'--?" (This had been her last, worst name for her favorite during his mischief period.) Harold never finished his sentence. The first sound of his voice had identified him, but the shock had confused her. When at last she sobbed "Hush! I say, hush!" her arms were about his knees and she was crying aloud. [Illustration: "Her arms were about his knees"] "Glo-o-o--oh--glo-o-o--glo-o-ry! Oh, my Gord!" But presently, wiping her eyes, she stammered: "What kep' you so, Baby? Hol' me up, chile--hol' me!" She was falling, but Harold steadied her with strong arms, pressing her into her chair, but retaining her trembling hand while he sat upon the low table beside her. He could not speak at once, but, seeing her head drop upon her bosom, he called quickly to Israel. For answer, a clarion note, in no wise muffled by the handkerchief from which it issued, came from the woodpile. Israel was shy of his emotions and had hidden himself. By the time he appeared, sniffling, Hannah had rallied, and was pressing Harold from her to better study his face at long range.