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only the one idea； his nightly watch by the diamond pit。 The
instinct of long habit was stronger than the darkness or the onset
of the storm； and he kept his tottering way over stream and fallen
timber until he reached the spot。 A sudden tremor seemed to shake
the lambent flame that had lured him on。 He thought he heard the
sound of voices； there were signs of recent disturbance；
footprints in the sawdust！ With a cry of rage and suspicion；
Fairley slipped into the pit and sprang toward the nearest opening。
To his frenzied fancy it had been tampered with； his secret
discovered； the fruit of his long labors stolen from him that very
night。 With superhuman strength he began to open the pit；
scattering the half…charred logs right and left； and giving vent to
the suffocating gases that rose from the now incandescent charcoal。
At times the fury of the gale would drive it back and hold it
against the sides of the pit； leaving the opening free； at times；
following the blind instinct of habit； the demented man would fall
upon his face and bury his nose and mouth in the wet bark and
sawdust。 At last； the paroxysm past； he sank back again in his old
apathetic attitude of watching； the attitude he had so often kept
beside his sylvan crucible。 In this attitude and in silence he
waited for the dawn。
It came with a hush in the storm； it came with blue openings in the
broken up and tumbled heavens； it came with stars that glistened
first； and then paled； and at last sank drowning in those deep
cerulean lakes； it came with those cerulean lakes broadening into
vaster seas； whose shores expanded at last into one illimitable
ocean； cerulean no more； but flecked with crimson and opal dyes； it
came with the lightly lifted misty curtain of the day； torn and
rent on crag and pine top； but always lifting； lifting。 It came
with the sparkle of emerald in the grasses； and the flash of
diamonds in every spray； with a whisper in the awakening woods； and
voices in the traveled roads and trails。
The sound of these voices stopped before the pit； and seemed to
interrogate the old man。 He came； and； putting his finger on his
lips； made a sign of caution。 When three or four men had descended
he bade them follow him； saying； weakly and disjointedly； but
persistently： 〃My boymy son Robertcame homecame home at last
here with Flipboth of themcome and see！〃
He had reached a little niche or nest in the hillside； and stopped
and suddenly drew aside a blanket。 Beneath it； side by side； lay
Flip and Lance； dead； with their cold hands clasped in each
other's。
〃Suffocated！〃 said two or three； turning with horror toward the
broken up and still smouldering pit。
〃Asleep！〃 said the old man。 〃Asleep！ I've seen 'em lying that way
when they were babies together。 Don't tell me！ Don't say I don't
know my own flesh and blood！ So！ so！ So； my pretty ones！〃 He
stooped and kissed them。 Then； drawing the blanket over them
gently； he rose and said softly； 〃Good night！〃
End