assionately remorseful, sin-laden meeting of
this sort. Nan knew it, too. He was sure she had not ventured it for the
protection of Tira. No one had ever told Nan about the man with the
devil in him who "looked up kinder droll." But she could see the tide of
human emotion had better be turned to the glorification of God than to
the abasement of man. Raven, in the swell of it, put his lips to her ear
and whispered:

"I'm going to ask you to change your seat."

She gave no sign of having heard, but sang on, in a delightful volume,
to "Crown Him Lord of all." The moment the last note died, Raven came to
his feet. He addressed Tenney:

"One minute. There's a draught here by the door."

He went over to Martin, Nan following:

"Do you mind sitting by the door?" he asked the man. "There's a good
deal of a draught."

Martin, his surprised look at Nan changing to a ready gallantry, got up
at once.

"Anything," said he, "to oblige a lady."

Nan sat down and Raven and Martin took the seats by the door. There,
too, Martin had advantage of a sort. He could stare down Tenney at short
range, and this he did with a broad smile. Tenney, Raven concluded, was
down and out. His comb was cut. Whatever passions might stir in him
later--however, in reviewing the scene, he might rage over the disturber
of his peace--now his spiritual leadership had passed from him and the
prayer-meeting itself was quashed. An air of curiosity hung over it. Two
or three of the older men and women in the other room offered testimony
and one man, the old clock-mender from the other side of the mountain,
who swore with a free tongue about his secular affairs, but always wept
when he went through the observance he called approaching the throne,
knelt and prayed in a high voice through sobs. This lightened the
atmosphere. No one ever regarded this performance seriously. He was the
comic relief. On his Amen, Nan (blessed Nan! thought Raven) proposed:

"Let's sing again."

"No!" said Tenney. He had got back his self-assertiveness. Raven could
guess his jealous anger, the tide of fury coming, flooding the stagnant
marshes of his soul. "I want to hear one more testimony. Thyatira
Tenney, get up and tell what God has done for you."

Tira gave a start so violent that the blue scarf fell from her shoulders
and one end of it lay over Nan's arm. She did get up. She rose slowly
and stood there looking straight before her, eyes wide and dark, her
hands clasped. H