he lightning, sur. Were you afraid of it all, sur?"

"Yes, I think I was."

"Well, thank God, you are safe, sur."

"Yes, I thank God too, Mrs. Briggs."

The woman looked at him curiously; there was a new tone in his voice, a
new light in his eyes. He no longer seemed a "strange Eastern gentleman"
to her.

He ate his dinner in silence. He had but little appetite, but he went
through the form of eating for fear Mrs. Briggs should think he was not
pleased with her cooking.

Presently he rose to go out. "Goin' out again, sur? I should have
thought you'd been tired after bein' out in all that storm. I should
think you don't get any wilder storms in the parts you've come from."

"Different, Mrs. Briggs, entirely different."

"I suppose it's very grand, in they furrin parts," said Mrs. Briggs,
"but I don't want to leave Vale Linden."

"Nor I, Mrs. Briggs; but I shall have to."

"Not yet, sur, I hope."

"Yes, very soon, I expect."

"I am sorry. I was hopin' you'd stay a long time, I was, for sure. The
house won't seem like the same without 'ee. You do git more English too,
sur, makin' so bold."

"Thank you, Mrs. Briggs; you've been very good to me."

"You won't be laivin' before the end of the summer, will 'ee, sur?"

"Very likely I shall leave to-morrow."

"Nothin' wrong happened, I 'ope, sur?"

"A great deal has happened, but nothing wrong. Mrs. Briggs, do you
believe a man can rise from the dead?"

"Not in these days, sur. Of course they did in the time of our Lord.
There was Lazarus, and the young man in the village of Nain. Of course
the Lord can do whatever He will."

"Yes," said Leicester quietly, "I believe He can."

He went out into the night. The storm had gone now, and the sky was
cloudless. After the wild tempest, a peace had come. The air was fresh,
and pure, and sweet. Nature was a parable of his own life. After the
black death of winter came the resurrection of spring, after the wild
storm had come a peace. Life was new to him. He felt it in every fibre
of his being; old things had passed away, but he felt a great sorrow in
his heart. For he knew what lay before him. From that night Signor
Ricordo would be no more, and he, Radford Leicester, must go out into
the wilderness again.

He hesitated for a moment, and then went indoors again to his own room.
In a few minutes he came out again, and started for Vale Linden Hall.

"It is the will of God," he said, as he went, "it is the price I