He was baptized at night.  The family had gathered in the room.  In the solemn hush of the occasion the whispers of the night-breeze could be heard among the vines and flowers outside, and the rippling of the sparkling waters of Santa Rosa Creek was audible.  The sick man’s face was luminous with the light that was from within.  The solemn rite was finished, a tender and holy awe filled the room; it was the house of God and the gate of heaven.  The wife, who was sitting near a window, rose, and noiselessly stepped to the bed, and without a word printed a kiss on her husband’s forehead, while the joy that flushed her features told that the prayer of thirty years had been answered, We sung a hymn and parted with tears of silent joy.  In a little while he crossed the river where we may mingle our voices again by and by.  There is not money enough in the California hills to buy the memory of that visit to Santa Rosa.