“My eyes have grown bright again, my father,” he cried. “And see, it is here written that if a miracle be desired, such as wish it must go forth personally in quest thereof.” “It is not wholly thus that I construe the page, O Achilles,” said his father simply; “but then my eyes are those of one who is old.” “One day only is left to us now, my father,” said the young man. “And although my fibres are as bread, to-morrow, come what may, I will go out to seek for the miracle.” XXXII For the remainder of that night the young man committed himself to the much-dreaded darkness of the streets. He was endeavouring to harden his heart to seek for the miracle. And in the course of that day upon which he was now entered the power was vouchsafed to him miraculously to obtain that which he sought. * * * * * William Jordan, Junior, presented himself at the counting-house of Crumpett and Hawker at the usual hour. Throughout the forenoon he performed his duties with that intense, but incompetent assiduity for which he had long been notorious. About twelve o’clock Mr. Walkinshaw summoned him to his table, and requested him to carry some papers to the room of Mr. Octavius Crumpett. William Jordan proceeded to do this. Knocking at the closed door, he received the assurance from James Dodson, who was ensconced near by, that Mr. Octavius had gone out. Thereupon the young man entered the empty room and placed the papers upon the table of his master. In the act of so doing he beheld, with surprise and bewilderment, and with a start of horror, that upon the table were two piles of gold pieces. With trembling fingers, yet with horror increasing its grip upon his heart, the young man took up the pieces of gold and proceeded to count them. With a sense of stupefaction the idea percolated slowly through his being that the miracle had happened. The pieces of gold were twenty in number, no more, and no less. The miracle had come to pass. The presence of twenty gold pieces could have but one interpretation. It only remained for him to act. Muttering words of despair and terror, he placed the twenty pieces of gold in his pocket and left the room. All through the afternoon William Jordan assiduously fulfilled his duties. Yet his whole being was enveloped in a kind of entrancement. He scarcely knew what he did or where he was. When at last the hour came in which he was relieved from the labours of the day, he returned to the little room. Within him was the exaltation of one who ascends the scaffold for an idea. The miracle had become consummated. In his pockets he bore twenty pieces of gold. The white hairs of his aged father would remain inviolate. Yet as soon as he crossed the threshold of the little room, he was met by the joyous eyes of the old man. A miracle had happened to him also.