ernity--it may be I did not bring salvation to them. They never come
back that I may ask them forgiveness and love them. Oh, how glorious
are the words, 'By grace ye are saved ... it is the gift of God.' In
this holy gift I take my refuge, my holy God and Saviour. I know that
You have pardoned me and have even taken the punishment that I merited
on Yourself. I cling to Thy cross; I fall at Thy wounded feet, and
thank Thee--Oh, so thank Thee; yes, I will praise eternally Thy holy
name, O Jesus!'" read Palko.

"Thus believed Pastor Malina ..." but the boy stopped because the
Bacha sat with his head bowed down, and cried aloud.

"'Even if I would, I couldn't make anything good. It is too late. The
souls went on to accuse me,'" he repeated in his crying. "That is what
is pressing _me_ down to the ground, and all my good life since that
time doesn't help anything ..."

The boy rested his curly head in the palms of his small hands.

"Uncle, will you not tell me what is worrying you so much? It could
not be the sin that you wanted to drown your Stephen, as Petrik told
me?"

"Stephen didn't drown. I, when something is pressing me, confess it
and feel easier at once."

"The Apostle James says, 'Confess your sins one to another.' It is
true I am only a boy, but I know already how the soul and the heart
ache--and there is no comforter. But the Lord Jesus will grant it to
me that I may be able to understand and to help you."

The man looked at the boy. He stroked his whiskers. "If I have to tell
somebody about it as I have wished for years, it will suit me best to
tell it to you. The Lord God gave you more wisdom than me, an old man,
just as Samuel the boy had more than the old priest Eli."

Bacha strode over to his stump where he usually sat. Palko lay beside
him on the grass. He drew the Bible near him, and laid his hand on the
head of Fido who cuddled close beside. Thus he waited patiently.

"Since Petrik told you what kind of a boy I was, I do not have to
retell it again," began the man presently. His whole appearance did
not fit into that beautiful Sunday morning.

"Thus we both grew up, and I can say with a good conscience that
Stephen and I loved each other very much. I could never forget that he
did not tell our parents how I forsook him in his plight. He convinced
me that our parents loved us both. All was well now and might have
remained so always, had not mother after her sister's death brought to
us her niec