tion is excusable.

At last he looked up.

"I long to be a Christian like her," he said; "over and over again she
taught me, during her last days on earth, of the Christ she loved, and
who, she said, was ever near her. I have heard all about the faith she
loved, yet I am an outcast from it. What can I do?--my father will not
let me be baptized, and I dare not oppose his will; yet I sometimes
think I ought to chance all, and to die, if death should be the
penalty."

"Die? You do not surely think he would slay you?"

"I know he would."

"In that case, my child, your duty seems plain: your Lord calls you to
give Him your love, your obedience, and to seek refuge in the fold of
His church."

"Ought I to leave my father?"

I felt very much puzzled indeed what to say. I could have no doubt as
to the lad's duty; but then his father was his natural guardian, and
in all things, save the plain duty of professing Christ, had a claim
to his obedience.

"I think," I said at last, "my Alfgar, that when he knew you were
determined to be a Christian he would oppose you no longer; that is,
if you were once baptized he would tolerate a Christian son as he once
did a Christian wife."

"He broke her heart."

"At all events I think that you should delay no longer, but should
seek instruction and baptism, which we will afford you; and then,
unless you really feel life is in danger, you should return to him and
try to bear your lot; it may not be so hard as you think."

"I am not afraid of death; but he is my father, and from his hands it
would be hard."

"He hates Christianity grievously then?"

"He says it is the religion of cowards and hypocrites; that it forms a
plea for cowardice when men dare not be men, and is thrown aside fast
enough when they have their foes in their power."

Alas! I could but feel how much reason the ill lives of Christians had
given him to form this opinion, and of the curse pronounced upon those
who shall put a stumbling block in their brother's way. The
conversation of the Sheriff, Edric Streorn, rose up in my mind as an
apt illustration of Anlaf's words.

"My boy," I said, "there is nothing perfect on earth. In the visible
church the evil is mingled with the good. Yet the church is the fold
of the Good Shepherd, and there is salvation therein for all who love
and serve their Lord, and strive humbly to follow His example, and
those of His blessed Saints."

"May I think over all you have said