ttle room grew shadowy
in the dusk, filled with a great reviving hope that the Lord had raised
a new prophet to lead Israel out of bondage.

As the night fell, however, the shadows of the room began to trouble him
as of old, and he found himself growing hotter and hotter until he
burned and gasped and the room seemed about to stifle him. He arose from
the bed, wondering that his feet should be so heavy and clumsy, and his
knees so weak, when he felt otherwise so strong. His head, too, felt
large, and there rang in his ears a singing of incessant quick beats. He
made his way to the door, where he heard the voices of Prudence and
Follett. It was good to feel the cool night air upon his hot face, and
he reassured Prudence, who chided him for leaving his bed.

"When you hear me discourse tomorrow you will see how wrong you were
about my being sick," he said. But she saw that he supported himself
carefully from the doorway along the wall to the near-by chair, and
that he sank into it with every sign of weakness. His eyes, however,
were aglow with his secret, and he sat nodding his head over it in a
lively way. "Brigham was right," he said, "when he declared that any of
us might receive revelations from on high; even the least of us--only we
are apt to be deaf to the whispered words until the Lord has scourged
us. I have been deaf a long time, but my ears are at last unstopped--who
is it coming, dear?"

A tall figure, vague in the dusk, was walking briskly up the path that
led in from the road. It proved to be the Wild Ram of the Mountains,
freshened by the look of rectitude that the razor gave to his face each
Saturday night.

"Evening, Brother Rae--evening, you young folks. Thank you, I will take
a chair. You feeling a bit more able than usual, Brother Rae?"

"Much better, Brother Seth. I shall be at meeting tomorrow."

"Glad to hear it, that's right good--you ain't been out for so long. And
we want to have a rousing time, too."

"Only we're afraid he has a fever instead of being so well," said
Prudence. "He hasn't eaten a thing all day."

"Well, he never did overeat himself, that I knew of," said the Bishop.
"Not eating ain't any sign with him. Now it would be with me. I never
believed in fasting the flesh. The Spirit of the Lord ain't ever so
close to me as after I've had a good meal of victuals,--meat and
potatoes and plenty of good sop and a couple of pieces of pie. Then I
can unbutton my vest and jest set and