"
As he spoke he caught a look on Forgue's face which revealed somehow
that it was not for him he had been waiting, but for Eppy. He turned
and went back towards the castle: he might meet her! Forgue called
after him, but he paid no heed.
As he hastened up the hill, not so much as the rustle of bird or
mouse did he hear. He lingered about the top of the road for half an
hour, then turned and went to the cobbler's.
He found Doory in great distress; for she was not merely sore
troubled about her son's child, but Andrew was in bed and suffering
great pain. The moment Donal saw him he went for the doctor. He said
a rib was broken, bound him up, and gave him some medicine. All done
that could be done, Donal sat down to watch beside him.
He lay still, with closed eyes and white face. So patient was he
that his very pain found utterance in a sort of blind smile. Donal
did not know much about pain: he could read in Andrew's look his
devotion to the will of him whose being was his peace, but he did
not know above what suffering his faith lifted him, and held him
hovering yet safe. His faith made him one with life, the eternal
Life--and that is salvation.
In closest contact with the divine, the original relation restored,
the source once more holding its issue, the divine love pouring
itself into the deepest vessel of the man's being, itself but a
vessel for the holding of the diviner and divinest, who can wonder
if keenest pain should not be able to quench the smile of the
prostrate! Few indeed have reached the point of health to laugh at
disease, but are there none? Let not a man say because he cannot
that no one can.
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