He opened his eyes.

From off toward the lake great flocks of gulls had appeared, whitening the sky, and now dulling all other sounds with the beating of their wings and their high, plaintive cries.

Quickly they settled upon the fields in swirling drifts, so that the land all about lay white as with snow.
A groan went up,--"They will finish what the crickets have left." He had risen to his feet, looking intently.

Then he gave an exultant shout.
"No! No!--they are eating only the _crickets_!--the white birds are devouring the black pests; the hosts of heaven and hell have met, and the powers of light have triumphed once more over darkness! _Pray_--pray now with all your hearts in thanksgiving for this mercy!" And again they knelt, many with streaming eyes, while he led them in a prayer of gratitude for this wondrous miracle.
All day long the white birds fed upon the crickets, and when they left at night the harvest had been saved.

Thus had Heaven vouchsafed a second miracle to the Lute of the Holy Ghost.