“Let me know the minute he does.”

“Yes sir,” she hesitated, “I—I would not build too much hope; she is past all human aid. Only God—”

“God, you! Another God-fearing fool! I tell you He only exists in your imagination. A creature formed by cowards to bolster up their courage when they are backed against a wall. I’ll hear no more of it.”

She shrank back nervously. “Very well, sir.” Then with a commiserating nod, she too left the room.

The man sank into a chair. His head dropped lower and lower until it touched the table. Great convulsive sobs shook his shoulders. The lights in the room grew dim and slowly went out. The room became dark with the blackness of a soul who sees no ray of light and quiet, like one whose misery has passed all earthly bounds of utterance.

When the Lord of the Mansion closed his window, he neglected to draw the shade and a tiny ray of light from the brightly illumined cross on the church spire across the street slowly found its way and filtered into the darkest corner of the room. A tiny beam of light—it grew and grew—until it revealed a Presence standing there.

The man felt rather than saw this Presence, and he slowly raised his head.

A Stranger stood there regarding him with a most compassionate air.

The man arose and speaking abruptly, he said, “Who are you?”

The Stranger answered, softly. “One you have never known and—One—you have always known.”

The rich one laughed harshly. “Riddles. I have other things to do besides solving them. What are you doing here?”

His Unknown Guest smiled gently. “I am always present in time of trouble.”

The man regarded his guest coldly. “I left orders I was not to be disturbed.” His hand reached for the bell.