low way down the valley, and reached the parsonage house at last.

Roderick lay long between life and death; and youth and a quiet mind
prevailed.

Long years have passed since that day; all those that I have spoken
of are dust. But in the window of the old church hangs a picture in
glass which shows Christ standing, with one lying at his feet from
whom he had cast out a devil; and on a scroll are the words, DE
ABYSSIS . TERRAE . ITERUM . REDUXISTI . ME, the which may be written
in English, _Yea, and broughtest me from the deep of the earth again_.

THE RED CAMP

It was a sultry summer evening in the old days, when Walter Wyatt
came to the house of his forefathers. It was in a quiet valley of
Sussex, with the woods standing very steeply on the high hillsides.
Among the woods were pleasant stretches of pasture, and a little
stream ran hidden among hazels beside the road; here and there were
pits in the woods, where the men of ancient times had dug for iron,
pits with small sandstone cliffs, and full to the brim of saplings and
woodland plants. Walter rode slowly along, his heart full of a happy
content. Though it was the home of his family he had never even seen
Restlands--that was the peaceful name of the house. Walter's father
had been a younger son, and for many years the elder brother, a morose
and selfish man, had lived at Restlands, often vowing that none of his
kin should ever set foot in the place, and all out of a native malice
and churlishness, which discharged itself upon those that were nearest
to him. Walter's father was long dead, and Walter had lived a very
quiet homely life with his mother. But one day his uncle had died
suddenly and silently, sitting in his chair; and it was found that he
had left no will. So that Restlands, with its orchards and woods and
its pleasant pasture-lands, fell to Walter; and he had ridden down to
take possession. He was to set the house in order, for it was much
decayed in his uncle's time; and in a few weeks his mother was to
follow him there.

He turned a corner of the road, and saw in a glance a house that he
knew must be his; and a sudden pride and tenderness leapt up within
his heart, to think how fair a place he could call his own.

An avenue of limes led from the road to the house, which was built of
ancient stone, the roof tiled with the same. The front was low and
many-windowed. And Walter, for he was a God-fearing youth, made a