s enjoying a few moments' rest in the mild air before
taking up her task of preparing the next day's work. The missionary and
his wife were away, visiting at the next-neighbouring mission, and were
not expected back until the following afternoon.

Hearing the sound of approaching footsteps, Miss Blake looked round,
and saw Samuel Gozani approaching. He came slowly up the steps, and
stood silently before her, leaning against one of the verandah poles.

"Good evening, Samuel," she said.

"Good evening, Miss Elizabeth; you do not often take a rest."

"I seldom have time."

Samuel remained silent, and the girl regarded him intently. She had
long noticed his demeanour, and had often wondered as to what was on
his mind.

"Samuel," she said, sympathetically, "why have you been so strange of
late? Is anything the matter with you?"

Samuel cleared his throat as if to speak, shifted his feet, but said
nothing.

"Do you not know," she continued, "that your class is going backward,
that you often forget to set the lessons, and that half the time you
are teaching you appear as if you do not know what you are doing? Tell
me, is there anything on your mind? Have you done anything you are
sorry for?"

Samuel again cleared his throat, shifted his feet, and with an evident
effort replied:

"I have not committed any sin, but I know my work is done badly. My
heart is so heavy that I can hardly bear the weight."

"What is this heaviness?"

Samuel did not reply, but after a pause asked this question:

"Miss Elizabeth, do you believe that all men, white and black, are
equal?"

The girl paused for a moment. In her heart of hearts she knew she did
not think so, but the fundamental axiom weighed heavily on her, the
well-worn arguments of the missionary arose and threatened her,
pointing with skinny fingers at the abyss which lay in the road of the
opposite view, so she muffled her answer up carefully in a platitude,
and handed it to her hearer, trusting that the muffler would somewhat
conceal its nakedness.

"Of course," she said, "the bad are not equal to the good; but if God
holds that otherwise all men are equal, it would be wrong of any one to
think differently."

"But white people never really think that we blacks are equal to them,"
said Samuel, speaking in a strained tone, "no matter what they say."

Miss Blake felt unable to reply, so after a short pause Samuel
continued:

"When a black man walks in the ways of t