at
are for the healing of all hurts.

And, last of all, there was a confused medley of more human thoughts
that concerned persons other than himself. He could not remember all the
persons clearly; their names and their faces came and went. Marjorie,
his father, Mr. John FitzHerbert and Mr. Anthony, who had been allowed
to come and see him; Dick Sampson, who had come in with Marjorie the
second time and had kissed his hands. One thing at least he remembered
clearly as he stood here, and that was how he had bidden Mistress
Manners, even now, not to go overseas and become a nun, as she had
wished; but rather to continue her work in Derbyshire, if she could.

So then he stood, bent double on two sticks, blinking and peering out at
the faces, wondering whether it was a roar of anger or welcome or
compassion that had broken out at his apparition, and smiling--smiling
piteously, not of deliberation, but because the muscles of his mouth so
moved, and he could not contract them again.

* * * * *

He understood presently that he was to lie down on the hurdle, with his
head to the horses' heels.

This was a great business, to be undertaken with care. He gave his two
sticks to a man, and took his arm. Then he kneeled, clinging to the arm
as a child to a swimmer's in a rough sea, and sank gently down. But he
could not straighten his legs, so they allowed him to lie half
side-ways, and tied him so. It was amazingly uncomfortable, and, before
he was settled, twice the sweat suddenly poured from his face as he
found some new channel of pain in his body....

An order or two was issued in a loud, shouting voice; there was a great
confusion and scuffling, and the crack of a whip. Then, with a jerk that
tore his whole being, he was flicked from his place; the pain swelled
and swelled till there seemed no more room for it in all God's world;
and he closed his eyes so as not to see the house-roofs and the faces
and the sky whirl about in that mad jigging dance....

After that he knew very little of the journey. For the most part his
eyes were tight closed; he sobbed aloud half a dozen times as the hurdle
lifted and dropped over rough places in the road. Two or three times he
opened his eyes to see what the sounds signified, especially a loud,
bellowing voice almost in his ear that cried texts of Scripture at him.

"_We have but one Mediator between God and man, the Man Christ
Jesus_...."

"_We then,