two had talked
together of such things in this very room, and the naturalness of the
scene, and of the judge's manner, made the brother-in-law for a second
forget the tragedy in which they were living.

"Why, of course," he answered. "If one had never heard of such a power
one's vocabulary wouldn't take in the words to describe it."

"Exactly," the judge agreed. "That's the point I'm making. Perhaps now I
may tell you what it is that has happened. Or rather, I may make you
understand how a definite and concrete event has come to pass, which I
can't tell you."

Alarm suddenly expressed itself beyond control in the brother-in-law's
face. "John, what do you mean? Do you see that you distress me? Can't
you tell clearly if some one has been here--what it is, in plain
English, that has happened?"

The judge turned his dreamy, bright look toward the frightened man. "I
do see--I do see," he brought out affectionately. "I'll try to tell, as
you say, in plain English. But it is like the case I put--it is a
question of lack of vocabulary. A remarkable experience has occurred in
this room within an hour. I can no more describe it than the man born
blind could describe sight. I can only call it by one name, which may
startle you. A revelation."

"A revelation!" the tone expressed incredulity, scarcely veiled scorn.

The judge's brilliant gaze rested undisturbed on the speaker. "I
understand--none better. A day ago, two hours ago, I should have
answered in that tone. We have been trained in the same school, and have
thought alike. Dick was here a while ago and said things--you know what
Dick would say. You know how you and I have been sorry for the lad--been
indulgent to him--with his keen, broad mind and that inspired
self-forgetfulness of his--how we've been sorry to have such qualities
wasted on a parson, a religion machine. We've thought he'd come around
in time, that he was too large a personality to be tied to a treadmill.
We've thought that all along, haven't we? Well, Dick was here, and out
of the hell where I was I thought that again. When he talked I thought
in a way--for I couldn't think much--that after a consistent voyage of
agnosticism, I wouldn't be whipped into snivelling belief at the end, by
shipwreck. I would at least go down without surrendering. In a dim way I
thought that. And all that I thought then, and have thought through my
life, is nothing. Reasoning doesn't weigh against experience. Dick is
right.