ing of the meeting. Almost the tears came
into his eyes as he stood there beside Dora, looking down at that
terrible verse.

"Take it away," he said, suddenly, turning from the bit of pasteboard.
"I don't want his eyes looking at me."

"You can't help it," Dora answered, with great emphasis. "There are more
just such verses, 'Thou God seest me;' and oh, plenty of them. And he
certainly _does_ see you all the time, whether you want him to or not."

"Well stop!" said Tode, with a sudden gruffness that Dora had never seen
in him before. "I don't want to hear another bit about it, nor your
verse, nor anything--not a word. I wish you had let me alone. I don't
believe it, anyhow, nor I won't, nor I ain't a going to--so."

At that moment Mr. Hastings' note came, and miserable Tode went on his
way. _How_ miserable he was; the glimmering lamps along the gloomy
streets seemed to him eyes of fire burning into his thoughts; the very
walls of his darkened room, when he had reached that retreat, seemed to
glow on every side with great terrible, all-seeing eyes. Over and over
again was that fearful sentence repeated: "The eyes of the Lord are in
every place, beholding the evil." Just then he stopped. He had suddenly
grown so vile in his own eyes that it seemed to him that there was
nothing good left to behold; he tumbled and tossed on his narrow bed; he
covered himself, eyes, head, all, in the bed-clothes; but it was of no
use, that piercing Eye saw into the darkness and through all the
covering--and oh, Tode was afraid!

He was a brave, fearless boy; no darkness had ever before held any
terrors for him. I am not sure that he would not have whistled
contemptuously over a whole legion of supposed ghosts. He was entirely
familiar with, and quite indifferent to, that most frightful of all
human sights, a reeling, swearing drunkard; but this was quite another
matter, this great solemn eye of God, which he felt to-night for the
first time, looking steadily down upon him, never forgetting him for a
moment, never by any chance turning away and giving him time to go to
sleep. Tode didn't know why he felt this terrible new feeling; he didn't
know that the loving, pitying Savior had his tender eyes bent on him,
and was calling him, that God had used that powerful thrust from the
Spirit to wound his sinful heart; he knew nothing about it, save that he
was afraid, and desolate and very miserable. Suddenly he sprung up, a
little of his ordina