The sick man's face was every minute taking on the lines of hope and manly force. The other man watched him with tender eyes, in which the pity was carefully veiled. "Yes, we chose him well, my President," said Joseph, with almost a swagger. "You will never know how great is my gratitude, Schotz," suggested the President, "because you can never know from what you saved me--you and the toy-shop. The day when first I came here I had fallen into a pit digged by my own nature. You showed me the way out." His eyes were on the sick man, and he chose the words that would hearten most. "It was a great service you did me--and, through me, this great land of ours." There was a light in Joseph's eyes that had been absent for many days. "And now it is over." The President drew a breath so great that his gaunt frame expanded. He settled into a chair near the bed with a sigh of restfulness. "The boys will come home. Their mothers will meet them. Their fathers will grip their hands. No, I will not think of those who will be missing--the time for that has passed. The children will hang about their father's neck. And they will be together." The light grew in the President's eyes, until it seemed they blazed with a love which was that of child and father in one and contained the passion and tenderness of the universal lover. Then the President rose, shaking himself like a great spaniel and laughing from delight in living. "There are things to be done--oh, the fight is not over. Perhaps it is only begun. But to-day is my perfect moment--the first perfect moment of my life, God knows." He paused and raised himself to his full stature--challenging his fate. "It is enough to have lived for. I am content!" He turned to Schotz again, and his face was radiant with steadfast brightness. "There will be a future, my friend. We are ready for it, are we not? I know the path will be clear. I have begun--the first thing to be done is to heal. Beyond that"--he paused, and his forehead contracted slightly as if from doubt--"all is in the shadow." A veil made vague the joyousness of his eyes. It seemed to Joseph that his great friend was looking upon something that he himself could not see. The face brightened--the eyes opened wide--became luminous.... The President took up his words in an altered tone. "Beyond that--I cannot see," he ended, happily. Joseph watched him for a moment. Then, uneasy, he put out his hand and touched him timidly on the sleeve. The President smiled at him again. There seemed to be no transition, and yet--they were back again in the world where things were to be done and--borne. "And now, friend Joseph" (the President took up again the task he had set himself in the shadowed toy-shop), "when we were in the conquered city I found a toy--" He interrupted himself to laugh. "It was the only loot I permitted myself." Joseph stared at him with puzzled expectation.