Glani waited in the patio¹ for the reappearance of the master, and as Connor paced with short, nervous steps on the grass at every turn he caught the flash of the sun on the stallion. Above his selfish greed he had one honest desire: he would have paid with blood to see the great horse face the barrier. That, however was beyond the reach of his ambition, and therefore the beauty of Glani was always a hopeless torment².  
The quiet in the patio oddly increased his excitement. It was one of those bright, still days when the wind stirs only in soft breaths, bringing a sense of the open sky. Sometimes the breeze picked up a handful of drops from the fountain and showered it with a cool rustling³ on the grass. Sometimes it flared⁴ the tail of Glani; sometimes the shadow of the great eucalyptus⁵ which stood west of the house quivered on the turf.
 
Connor found himself looking minutely at trivial things, and in the meantime David Eden in his room was deciding the fate of the American turf. Even Glani seemed to know, for his glance never stirred from the door through which the master had disappeared. What a horse the big fellow was! He thought of the stallion in the paddock at the track. He heard the thousands swarm⁶ and the murmur⁷ which comes deep out of a man's throat when he sees a great horse.
 
The palms of Connor were wet with sweat. He kept rubbing them dry on the hips⁸ of his trousers. Rehearsing his talk with David, he saw a thousand flaws, and a thousand openings which he had missed. Then all thought stopped; David had come out into the patio.
 
He came straight to Connor, smiling, and he said:
 
"The words were a temptation, but the mind that conceived them was not the mind of a tempter."
 
Ineffable⁹ assurance and good will shone in his face, and Connor cursed him silently.
 
"I, leaving the valley, might be lost in the torrent¹⁰. And neither the world nor I should profit. But if I stay here, at least one soul is saved to God."
 
"Your own?" muttered Connor. But he managed to smile above his rage. "And after you," he concluded, "what of the horses, David?"
 
"My sons shall have them."
 
"And if you have no sons?"
 
"Before my death I shall kill all of the horses. They are not meant for other men than the sons of David."
 
The gambler drew off his hat and raised his face to the sky, asking mutely if Heaven would permit this crime.
 
"Yet," said David, "I forgive you."
 
"You forgive me?" echoed Connor through his teeth.
 
"Yes, for the fire of the temptation has burned out. Let us forget the world beyond the mountains."
 
"What is your proof that you are right in staying here?"
 
"The voice of God."
 
"You have spoken to Him, perhaps?"
 
The irony¹² passed harmless by the raised head of David.
 
"I have spoken to Him," he asserted calmly.
 
"I see," nodded the gambler. "You keep Him in that room, no doubt?"
 
"It is true. His spirit is in the Room of Silence."
 
"You've seen His face?"
 
A numbness¹³ fell on the mind of Connor as he saw his hopes destroyed by the demon¹⁴ of bigotry¹⁵.
 
"Only His voice has come to me," said David.
 
"It speaks to you?"
 
"Yes."
 
Connor stared in actual alarm, for this was insanity¹⁶.
 
"The four," said David, "spoke¹¹ to Him always in that room. He is there. And when Matthew died he gave me this assurance—that while the walls of this house stood together God would not desert me or fail to come to me in that room until I love another thing more than I love God."
 
"And how, David, do you hear the voice? For while you were there I was in the patio, close by, and yet I heard no whisper of a sound from the room."
 
"I shall tell you. When I entered the Room of Silence just now your words had set me on fire. My mind was hot with desire of power over other men. I forgot the palace you built for me with your promises. And then I knew that it had been a temptation to sin from which the voice was freeing me.
 
"Could a human voice have spoken more clearly than that voice spoke to my heart? Anxiously I called before my eyes the image of Benjamin to ask for His judgment¹⁷, but your face remained an unclouded vision and was not dimmed by the will of the Lord as He dims creatures of evil in the Room of Silence. Thereby¹⁸ I knew that you are indeed my brother."
 
............