In his dream, Barnard forgot for a moment The Threat which drifted above them, and he began to sing, and Anne sang with him. And the three boys, his sons, laughed as he and Anne sang. Their voices were like peals of music. Then something brushed Barnard’s cheek, and before he could stir, The Threat had engulfed them all. It crushed down upon them, stifling and smothering and blinding them. He fumbled desperately through this Cloud, seeking the others. He found Anne, and they clung together, and groped about.... “Here is Dick,” she called, and laid the hand of his eldest son in his; and a moment later he felt a straight, youthful shoulder, and when he peered through the mists, he saw that he had found Charles, the second son, and he called to Anne, as she had called to him: “Here is Charles!” They were glad at that; and they went more hopefully at their task of finding the little child; but while they were still searching, the Cloud lifted, and they saw that the little boy was gone. VIII Barnard, in his dream, began to feel old; and he began to feel lonely. He missed the laughter of the little child. Even though Anne, and Dick, and Charles still walked with him, he missed the little child. He could see in Anne’s eyes that she, too, was lonely, but when he taxed her with it, she gave him a gay denial. The two boys, however, soon forgot. At first Barnard resented this; then he accepted it dumbly. Revolt was dying in him. He still went forward as steadily as before, but the old, fierce defiance no longer burned in his breast. He no longer sought to escape The Threat above them. He accepted its presence. Submission was born in him. The Threat rode high and serene above their heads.... In his dream, he thought they went forward for a long time together, through the fields. There were not so many stones in their path, not so many thorns to snatch at them. Barnard took pleasure in lifting the stones and tossing them aside, and he found joy in lopping off the thorns. He was, in some measure, happy. Then, one day, he spoke to Charles, and the lad did not hear him, did not reply. He looked at the boy in surprise; and he saw that Charles was looking off across the field through which they passed. His eyes followed his son’s eyes, and fell upon a girl child walking in the field, a little way off. She followed a path parallel to theirs, and she was answering Charles’ eyes with her own. Barnard called to Charles again, more loudly; and this time the boy heard, and turned, and answered him. But his eyes went back to the girl as soon as he had answered. Then suddenly, they came to a place where a narrow path led off from the broad one they were following, and went toward the girl’s path; and here Charles stopped. He looked along the narrow way. “This is my path,” he said. Anne did not understand. She put her arm around Charles’ shoulder. “No, son,” she said. “The broad way is ours.”