For a long time, in his dream, he always felt his father and his mother
near at hand. Sometimes their fingers touched his. Sometimes, his
father’s firm clasp lifted him over an obstacle in the way; and
sometimes his mother’s smile tried to smooth away the bruises he
encountered in the path.
His mother and his father loved to cast their arms about the two
children, while he and Anne watched proudly.
While they all stood thus one day, The Threat descended upon them,
lightly, gently; and thereafter Barnard was unable to find his father or
his mother. He looked for them and could not see them; but at times he
seemed to hear their voices, speaking to him....
The Threat in the air seemed to mock him; and he perceived that it would
never leave him. He must walk forever in its shadow, till he should
awake.
A great throng of memories roared down upon him; their wings buffeted
his head. They were memories of things he might have done and had not
done; of things he had done of which there was no need. They concerned
his father and his mother, and they tormented him.
Then Anne’s hand lay lightly on his arm, and he was mysteriously
comforted and reassured.