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‘John；’ said his father； ‘e with me。’
Then they were in a straight street； a narrow； narrow way。 They had been walking for manydays。 The street stretched before them； long； and silent； going down； and whiter than the snow。
There was no one on the street； and John was frightened。 The buildings on this street； so near thatJohn could touch them on either side； were narrow； also； rising like spears into the sky； and theywere made of beaten gold and silver。 John knew that these buildings were not for him—not to…day—no； nor to…morrow； either！ Then； ing up this straight and silent street； he saw a woman； veryold and black； ing toward them； staggering on the crooked stones。 She was drunk； and dirty；and very old； and her mouth was bigger than his mother’s mouth； or his own； her mouth was looseand wet； and he had never seen anyone so black。 His father was astonished to see her； and besidehimself with anger； but John was glad。 He clapped his hands； and cried：
‘See！ She’s uglier than Mama！ She’s uglier than me！’
‘You mighty proud； ain’t you；’ his father said； ‘to be the Devil’s son？’
But John did no listen to his father。 He turned to watch the woman pass。 His father grabbedhis arm。
“You see that？ That’s sin。 That’s what the Devil’s son runs after。’
‘Whose son are you？’ John asked。
His father slapped him。 John laughed； and moved a little away。
‘I seen it。 I seen it。 I ain’t the Devil’s son for nothing。’
His father reached for him； but John was faster。 He moved backward down the shiningstreet； looking at his father—his father who moved toward him； one hand outstretched in fury。
‘And I heard you—all the night…time long。 I know what you do in the dark； black man；when you think the Devil’s son’s asleep。 I heard you； spitting； and groaning； and choking—and Iseen you； riding up and down； and going in and out。 I ain’t the Devil’s son for nothing。’
The listening buildings； rising upward yet； leaned； closing out the sky。 John’s feet began toslip； tears and sweat were in his eyes； still moving backward before his father； he looked about himfor deliverance； but there was no deliverance in this street for him。
‘And I hate you。 I hate you。 I don’t care about your golden crown。 I don’t care about yourlong white robe。 I seen you under the robe； I seen you！’
Then his father was upon him； at his touch there was singing； and fire。 John lay on his backin the narrow street； looking up at his father； that burning face beneath the burning towers。
‘I’m going to beat it out of you。 I’m going to beat it out。’
His father raised his hand。 The knife came down。 John rolled away； down the white；descending street； screaming：
Father！ Father！
These were the first words he uttered。 In a moment there was silence； and his father wasgone。 Again； he felt the saints above him—and dust in his mouth。 There was singing somewhere；faraway；abovehim；singingslowandmourn（was） ful。 He lay silent； racked beyondendurance； salt drying on his face； with nothing in him any more； no lust； no fear； no shame； nohope。 And yet he knew that it would e again—the darkness was full of demons crouching；waiting to worry him with their teeth again。
Then I looked in the grave and I wondered。
Ah； down！—what was he searching here； all alone in darkness？ But now he knew； for ironyhad left him； that he was searching something； hidden in the darkness； that must be found。 Hewould die if it was not found； or； he was dead already； and would never again be joined to theliving； if it was not found。
And the grave looked so sad and lonesome。
In the grave where he now wandered—he knew it was the grave； it was so cold and silent；and he moved in icy mist—he found his mother and his father； his mother dressed in scarlet； hisfather dressed in white。 They did not see him： they looked backward； over their shoulders； at acloud of witnesses。 And there was his Aunt Florence； gold and silver flashing on her fingers；brazen ear…rings dangling from her ears； and there was another woman； whom he took to be thatwife of his father’s； called Deborah—who had； as he had once believed； so much to tell him。 Butshe； alone； of all that pany； looked at him and signified that there was no speech in the grave。
He was a stranger there—they did not see him pass； they did not know what he was looking for；they could not help him search。 He wanted to find Elisha； who knew； perhaps； who would help him—but Elisha was not there。 There was Roy： Roy also might have helped him； but he had beenstabbed with a knife； and lay now； brown and silent； at his father’s feet。
Then there began to flood John’s soul the waters of despair。 Love is as strong as death； asdeep as the grave。 But love； which had； perhaps； like a benevolent monarch； swelled thepopulation of his neighboring kingdom； Death； had not himself descended： they owed him noallegiance here。 Here there was no speech or language； and there was no love； no one to say： Youare beautiful； John； no one to forgive him； no matter what his sin； no one to heal him； and lift himup。 No one： father and mother looked backward； Roy was bloody； Elisha was not here。
Then the darkness began to murmur—a terrible sound—and John’s ears trembled。 In thismurmur that filled the grave； like a thousand wings beating on the air； he recognized a sound thathe had always heard。 He began； for terror； to weep and moan—and this sound was swallowed up；and yet was magnified by the echoes that filled the darkness。
This sound had filled John’s life； so it now seemed； from the moment he had first drawnbreath。 He had heard it everywhere； in prayer and in daily speech； and wherever the saints weregathered； and in the unbelieving streets。 It was in his father’s anger； and in his mother’s calminsistence； and in the vehement mockery of his aunt； it had rung； so oddly； in Roy’s voice thisafternoon； and when Elisha played the piano it was there； it was in the beat and jangle of SisterMcCandless’s tambourine； it was in the very cadence of her testimony； and invested that testimonywith a matchless； unimpeachable authority。 Yes； he had heard it all h