d in a moment. He seemed to
become like a little child. Then he got on his feet, and praised the
Lord. That was five years agone, and Aaron Goudge is a local preacher
now, and the happiest man in the parish. As for Bill Liddicoat, well,
sur, he got better, and now Aaron's maid is his wife. Tha's wot the dear
Lord Jesus can do fer a man, sur."

Leicester made no reply. He tried to think of something mocking to say,
but the words would not come. It seemed to be impossible to call up a
sneer in the face of the woman's simple faith.

"Plaise forgive me, sur, for talkin' like this. But I was prayin' when I
heerd you knock; besides, in a way you do make me think of the poor
gen'l'man that comed 'ere years agone, and wot throwed 'isself into the
revver afterwards. As I sed to 'ee, ef we doan't conquer the devil,
'ee'll conquer we. You be'ant offended, be 'ee, sur?"

"Offended? Certainly not." He tried to laugh, but somehow the laugh died
on his lips. "But you see, it's--it's a long time since I heard any one
talk like this."

"Es et, sur? Ah, but the dear Loard Jesus es oal I've got to live for
now. Four years ago my 'usband died, and then my boy was killed in the
war. I felt 'ard and bitter for a little time. But 'tes oal right, I
shall meet them again. They will not come to me, but I shall go to
them."

Leicester rose to his feet, and looked for his hat.

"You wa'ant 'ave another cup of tay, sur?"

"No, thank you."

"You'll forgive an old woman, sur, and I knaw I'm very bould in spaikin'
to 'ee, and I'm fast baitin' on for sixty, but you do'ant look 'appy,
sur. I'm tould sometimes that I talk too much 'bout the Lord Jesus, but
He's all I've got now, and d'reckly you comed into the 'ouse, I had a
feelin' that you wad'n 'appy. Be 'ee, sur?"

"No, great God, no," and Leicester seized his hat as though he were
angry.

"Then you do'ant mind an old woman prayin' for 'ee, do 'ee, sur?"

"Yes, pray for me, I need it," he said. "Thank you very much for the
tea, and, by the way, I want you to give something for me to your
chapel."

He gave her a sovereign, and walked away. A few minutes later he was out
on the moors again.

CHAPTER XXIX

GOD AND THE MAN

When he reached the top of the hill he drew a long, deep breath. Away on
every hand stretched the fine, undulating country--patches of wood,
homely farmsteads, well-cultivated fields, and broad stretches of
moorland. It was a day to rejoice in, it was a sc