The Masked Lady replied: "Nothing delights me so much as to have children and their parents find each other. That is my highest dream--to bring together the parents and children who have lost each other."

"And shall I find them?"

"I think you are on the way even now to find them--perhaps sooner than you dare to hope."

"If I could find them now," continued Everychild, "I think I could willingly give up my search for--for the truth. It seemed a wonderful thing to seek for when I began, but I am not anxious to do so any more."

There was a new note in her voice as she replied, "Truth is very close to those who still seek, but who have ceased to be anxious."

He did not know why the words should have thrilled him so. If he could find the truth, after all, and still have his parents again! He permitted his eyes to rest on the Masked Lady's rather forbidding face.

And then he began impulsively--"Dear lady! . . ."

"Yes, Everychild?" she returned gently.

He sought eagerly for the right words. "I did not know it myself for a long time," he said, "But I think I know now . . ."

"I am waiting, Everychild!"

His voice almost failed him. "There was such a long time that I thought I feared you a little," he continued, "--when it seemed better to stand quite apart from you and look at you from a distance. But you've been so good a friend that now at last . . ."

"At last, Everychild?"

He timidly sought her hand; and having found it he stood with downcast eyes. "At last I know I--I love you!"

Still standing with downcast eyes he could not know how radiantly she appeared before him. He could not see how the mask fell from her face at last. The Masked Lady no more, but Truth herself in all her glory!

She cried out triumphantly, "Lift up your eyes, Everychild, and look at me!"

He lifted his eyes slowly, gaining courage little by little. And when he looked upon her an expression of amazement and swiftly dawning delight was in his eyes.

"You are--oh, it is you!" he cried, fearing even yet to name her.

"It is I," she said.

And he was not fearful of her now. Truth at last--and yet she was one who had been near him a long time and had often aided him.

"But you are beautiful!" he cried at last in wonder and delight.

"I am always beautiful to those who love me," she said.

"But oh, dear lady," he cried, "could you not have helped me to know you in the beginning?"

"Ah," she replied, "each soul must find me for itself."

Then she put her arm about him and comforted him for long days and nights of wandering.

They were interrupted soon by the other children who came forward eagerly. They too had come to tell their dream; and Everychild watched joyously while Truth--to him the Masked Lady no more--rea.s.sured them by saying that even now they were on their way to find their parents. And the children gathered together in groups and agreed that they all wished very much to see their parents again.

And then Everychild listened attentively while Truth declared to the a.s.sembled band: "If you would really find your parents again, and be happy with them, you must promise one thing only: that you will love them better than you love yourselves."

And all the children, having forgotten many of the hardships they had undergone at home, replied almost in one voice--

"We promise!"

Then after they had remained silent a little while, wondering how they were to find their parents, from whom they had wandered so far, they began to inquire how so difficult a thing could be brought about; and they were informed that it was true that one great obstacle still lay in the way of their return to their parents, but that perhaps it would be possible to remove that obstacle.

They drew apart, whispering among themselves and looking beamingly into one another's faces.

They were startled suddenly by a great voice, crying out in anguish--

"Lady--dear lady!"

It was the giant, who had remained apart a little because of his blindness. He was now approaching Truth, his hands outstretched.

"I am here," she said. And he came and knelt by her side.

CHAPTER x.x.x

WILL O'DREAMS MAKES A DISCOVERY

For a moment the giant remained silent, his heart so torn by doubt and fear that he could not speak. But at length he said: "I have heard how you would restore the children to their parents . . ."

"I hope to do so," replied Truth.

He cried out in sorrow, "Yet none may restore me to my mother, whom I have lost."

"Be not so sure of that!" she said.

Whereupon hope was kindled in his heart. He pondered, feeling that he was in the presence of one who was very wise and kind. And then he said:

"And I have heard Everychild say that you are beautiful."

She did not reply to this. She waited for him to continue.

"You will forgive me for speaking what is in my heart," he said at length, "But my own mother, from whom I was driven by cruel, stupid persons long ago, was very beautiful. And I have always dreamed that some day I should encounter a beautiful lady and that she should prove to be the mother I lost."

She replied to him in a low voice: "And by what sign or token should you recognize her, if you were to encounter her again after all these years?"

"Alas, what hope is there for me, now that I am blind? While I could yet see I hoped to know her by her calm glance, by the serenity that never was troubled by any evil chance . . . I cannot say; but I never would believe that I should not be helped to recognize her."

She meditated a little. And presently she said, as she leaned closer to him, "And did you never give her anything--a token, perhaps--that she might have treasured and kept, by which you might recognize her?"

"_I_ give _her_ anything?" he exclaimed incredulously. "It was she who gave, not I. What was there I could have given her? And yet . . . I remember once when I was a child I brought her a pretty trifle, and her eyes grew bright and she drew me to her and laid her cheek against my hair. And there were other things--but they were only trifles, after all."

"Trifles?" she echoed pa.s.sionately, "trifles?"