that he had entered deep
in the heart of things. A man who really prays enters into an experience
to which the prayerless man is a stranger. What thoughts passed through
his mind I cannot tell; perhaps he could not have told himself--he only
knew that the foundations of his life had been broken up. He realised
what he had been, he knew what he was. He saw life as he had never seen
it before--saw how poor and vain were the thoughts of man, how great
were the thoughts of God. The great deeps seemed to be revealed to him,
and he knew that no man lives unless he links himself to the Eternal
Heart, the Heart made real by the Son of God, who lived and died. The
reasonings of man seemed but the crying of children; the logic of the
schoolmen no more than children's castles on the sands. There were great
deeps beyond all their theories, deeps never to be understood by the
mind, but felt by the soul. God had spoken.

When he rose to his feet, he also knew that he had risen from the dead.
There was a new life in his heart, and he was conscious of it. The
Radford Leicester of hours before, and the Radford Leicester of now,
were different. He had passed from death unto life.

For a time he walked on, almost unheeding whither he went, but
presently, as the sky became clearer, he saw the dim outline of the tor
which had been his landmark. As he saw it, he realised that he was not
more than an hour's walk from Vale Linden. In two hours or so he would
see Olive again, and he would tell her what was right for him to tell.
For he knew what he had to do now. The only course was the right course,
and he must walk in it. He knew what it meant, too. When he told Olive
who he was, and related the story of the past six years, she would bid
him go away, as she had bidden him long ago; but he must tell her all.
He owed it to her, and he would pay his debt. The future was not in his
hands, but in God's, and he would fight against his Maker no longer.

"Good gracious, sur, you've been out in all this weather."

"In every bit of it, Mrs. Briggs."

"And there's not a dry thread on 'ee."

"Not one." And he laughed as he spoke.

"I've bin wonderin' 'bout 'ee for 'ours. It's bin a ter'ble storm."

"It's been very wonderful. Have you any hot water, Mrs. Briggs?"

"Plenty, sir."

"I'll have a bath, and dress for dinner. The simpler the meal the
better, Mrs. Briggs."

"Certainly, sur. I'm thankful you are safe. I was afraid you was struck
by t