roke into a half-sad little laugh at Nathaniel's face of fascinated
repulsion.

"You can laugh now," whispered the boy, close at his knee, "but when you
come to die? Why, even my father trembles at the thought of death. Oh, if
I could but believe you!"

"Faugh! To fear death when one has done his best!"

He had turned his horse's head, but Nathaniel called after him, bringing
out the awful words with an effort. "But they say--that you do not believe
in God."

The colonel laughed again. "Why, lad, I'm the only man in this damn town
who does." He put his horse into a trot and left Nathaniel under the
birch-trees, the sun high over his head, the bag of salt forgotten at his
feet.

IV

A little before sundown the next day the minister strode into his house,
caught up his Bible, and called to his wife, "Deborah, the Lord hath
answered me in my trouble. Call Nathaniel and bring him after me to the
house of Gideon Hall."

Mistress Everett fell back, her hand at her heart, "To _that_ house?"

"Aye, even there. He lieth at the point of death. So are the wicked
brought into desolation. Yesterday, as he rode in the wood, his horse cast
him down so that it is thought he may not live till dark. I am sent for by
his pious sisters to wrestle with him in prayer. Oh, Deborah, now is the
time to strike the last blow for the salvation of our son. Let him see how
the devil carries off the transgressor into the fires of hell, or let him
see how, at the last, the proudest must make confession of his wicked
unbelief----"

He hurled himself through the door like a javelin, while his wife turned
to explain to Nathaniel the reason for the minister's putting on his
Sabbath voice of a week-day morning. He cried out miserably, "Oh, mother,
_don't_ make me go there!"

"Nay, Nathaniel, there is naught new. You have been with us before to many
a sickbed and seen many a righteous death. This is an ill man, whose
terrors at the reward of his unbelief will be like goodly medicine to your
sick soul, and teach you to lay hold on righteousness while there is yet
time."

"But, mother, my Uncle Elzaphan said--I asked him this morning about
Colonel Hall--that he had done naught but good to all men, that he had
fought bravely with French and Indians, that the poor had half of his
goods, that--"

She took him by the hand and dragged him relentlessly out upon the street.
"Your Uncle Elzaphan is a man of no understanding, and does not know