Let the burning bridge light your way.' 'I shall be proud to obey you.' 'You should not have disobeyed.' 'No, I should not have disobeyed.' 'If you want to be a great hero, you must be obedient.' 'I shall be the greatest hero that ever was,' said the boy, and began to walk up the narrow path, his body bent forward a little. The flame of the burning bridge followed in his footsteps. For a moment he hesitated. 'I must be _absolutely_ obedient,' he said. And he smiled. Then, when he was twenty feet away from the burning bridge, he stopped and bent down to look at the red coal. 'Ah!' he whispered. 'What are you doing, boy?' 'Just looking at the light, Obeisance,' said the boy and he began to crawl back. His head was turned towards his father. The distance between them was a short eight feet, the distance a boy in a crawling race could cover in a second. 'Obeisance!' 'Yes, Father.' 'You must not go over the burning bridge.' 'But there's no need to, Father. The flame can burn away while I go under.' 'No, Obeisance, you are not to go under, ever.' 'Oh,' said the boy, raising his arms. 'Obeisance, Obeisance. Why did you disobey, dear?' 'It wasn't that I disobeyed,' replied the man, and his voice was so deep that it made his son's heart sink into his body. He had never heard him say the words before. 'If you do not obey, I cannot help you,' said Obeisance. 'What is it you have done?' 'I disobeyed,' said his son. 'I disobeyed, Obeisance.' 'Then I have failed, my boy.' And the tall black shape of the man stretched out and stood at full height, his legs apart and a frown on his face. 'I do not know where you went,' he said. 'Perhaps it was a better place than this world. I have told you how a man must be obedient to grow to be a great man. You were always disobeying, and I would have told you again and again, but you were still disobeying and always would be, and this is why I am now sending you out.' 'Where am I to go?' asked the boy. 'Go to the fire,' said the man, and he gave one look of grief. 'It is my duty to tell you this. The fire will decide if you are a man.' Then, when his son had gone to stand near the flame, he looked across and saw that the boy was gazing into the darkness of the valley. Obeisance turned and moved to stand beside his father. 'Why are you looking up there?' he asked. 'What is that above you, Father?' The tall man turned his head and looked into his son's eyes. ' _What_ is it?' he said. 'Do you see the clouds, my boy?' 'Yes, Father.' 'And do you see the sun?' 'Yes, Father.' 'And do you see the moon?' 'Yes, Father.' 'And there is fire above you?' 'Yes, Father.' 'Look at it, my son.' The boy looked at the flame and it was as if the whole world changed and his heart went out of his body to the world beyond the valley. For though there was no sun, no moon, no clouds, he could see it all. He saw himself as a man, a great man, and the man looked back. 'What do you see, Obeisance?' 'I see a great man, Father. A great man.' 'Who is that, my son?' 'It's me,' whispered the boy, and he went towards the flame and stood beside it. 'Tell me your name, my son,' said his father. 'I have been a lonely man without a son.' 'My name is Obeisance,' said the boy, and the flame grew brighter. The air was almost still. 'Look at me, son,' said the tall man. 'Tell me what it is you see in the fire.' 'I see a great man, Father,' whispered Obeisance. 'A great man.' 'Tell me, son,' said the man, 'tell me what you see.' 'I see _you_ , Father,' said Obeisance. 'I see the man you are.' 'If this is so,' said his father, 'how did I come to make you? How is it I have never been able to make you to my measure?' 'I see a great man, Father,' whispered Obeisance. 'A man.' 'Yes, son.' 'The first day you drew me into your hands, Father, I was nothing. You told me what my name was. You held my name close to your lips. I did not wish to hear your voice then. I would have died rather than hear your voice. You put me on the burning bridge, Father. You burned me. My back was broken by the fire and I lay beneath it, howling in pain. All that time you stood above me and held me fast, but I was nothing then. I was just a babe in your hands. You held me then and said you could make me better, and you did. But I was still the babe in your hands. I was still nothing. I was not you. That was your task, Father. You should have died. You should have let me die. I should not have been brought here. I should not have grown to manhood. I should have been gone. Then one day I would have been a great man, as you say you were.' 'What should I have done, my son?' asked the man. 'You should have let me die, Father. It was my right to die.' 'Yes, son, you were a baby then and it was my right to let you die.' 'I should have been gone, Father, and the babe on the burning bridge, I would have grown to manhood.' 'No, my son, I should not have let you die.' 'No, Father,' whispered Obeisance. 'No.' The black man stood before the flame, watching the boy. 'My son,' he whispered, 'you were a babe in my hands, and I took you to the flames and let you die. I chose your death. I was weak. I had lost a son, and I was sorry. And your death was easy. But you have grown into a man. Your life is now the man's life, and he lives, and that is the only right way.' 'What did you do when I was a baby, Father? What is the secret?' 'I held you in my hands,' whispered the man, 'I brought you to this valley, and I gave you my name, and I gave you my knowledge.' ' _What_ is the secret?' 'I can make a man of you.' 'And will you do it now, Father?' whispered the boy. 'I do not know,' whispered the man. 'But if you grow to be great, then, when the time is right, I shall find you.' 'And will you then make me a man, Father?' 'Yes,' whispered the man. 'Then I shall make you a man.' 'And what will the man do?' 'I will tell him what you told me and he shall die.' 'What will the man do, Father?' 'He will kill the man.' The flame leaped into a red blaze and the valley shook with a gust of black dust, and on its way the wind swirled and threw the boy down and threw him over. He fell on his face, into the dust, and lay there, his eyes closed. The wind died away. He heard a shout from his father. He felt a hand on his body. He opened his eyes. He felt another hand on his body, and he looked at the hand, and his name came into his mouth. 'What was it, Father?' he whispered. 'I did not understand.' 'My son,' whispered the man. 'Your name is Obeisance.' The man lay still for a long time, as if he had received a wound, and then the body stirred and the head turned towards him and there was a look of pride in the man's eyes. The eyes watched and watched and then with a great effort the man rose on to his knees. Obeisance looked at the man, at his arms, his hands, his ears, at his chin, at his eyes and at his mouth and then the man began to grow. His eyes grew bigger and his mouth began to grow, and the features of his face came out of him and his arms rose with great strength. Obeisance tried to move. He wanted to stretch out a hand, but his hands were still held, and he