Theyallheardthewailingcryoftheghost-music。Butwhiletheblastcontinuedtheydarednotpursuetheirhunt。Itkeptoninfitsandguststillthesquallceased——assuddenlyalmostasithadburst。Theskycleared，andthesunshoneasaMarchsuncan。Buttheblunderingblastsandtheswan-shotoftheflyinghailwereallaboutstill。
“Whenthestormisuponus，“remarkedDonal，astheyrosefromtheircrouchingposition，“itseemsasiftherenevercouldbesunshinemore；butourhopelessnessdoesnotkeepbackthesunwhenhishourtoshineiscome。“
“Iunderstand！”saidArctura：“whenoneismiserable，miseryseemsthelawofbeing；andinthemidstofitdwellssomethoughtwhichnothingcaneversetright！Allatonceitisgone，brokenupandgone，likethathail-cloud。Itjustlooksitsownfoolishnessandvanishes。“
“Doyouknowwhythingssooftencomeright？”saidDonal。“——Iwouldsayalwayscomeright，butthatismatteroffaith，notsight。“
Arcturadidnotansweratonce。