Page:The Father Confessor, Stories of Danger and Death.djvu/152

142 comforting did she spy from his safe keeping to look about the room. There was no one there. She sat up in her father's arms.

"Why are you here?" he said. "What has frightened you?"

She did not answer. The warmth and light, the comfort of his presence dispelled her alarm. She did not remember that she had been so afraid.

The man looked into her little face, so flushed with sleep and excitement. His gaze dwelt upon the smooth brow that bore no wrinkle of heavy thought, on the clear, innocent eyes that had not recognised sin, on the round cheeks glowing with childhood, on the parted mouth that was still bowed in its baby outline, with never a trace upon it yet to show an evil hour.

"Little soft face," he whispered, "so precious with youth, must you one day change like mine—so old, so hard, so sorrowful? Will you, too, shun the sunlight, and only cry in the shadow for the great destroyer to come and give you oblivion?"

The child pressed closer, and gazed about the room.