old of her little Billy's hand, and Peter followed
with his little daughter Maggie drawn close to him.

Leon Tate was red in the face, and Isa looked stern and thoughtful. Yes;
something had happened in St. Ange. It would never be the same.

Drew went outside the church and joined Filmer. He had seen the uplifted
expression on Joyce's face. He had had his answer from on high; and he
was strangely moved.

He stood beside Filmer, motionless and flushed. Jock contemplated him
from his greater height as if he were a new and startling enigma.

"Say, kid," he drawled presently, striving to hide the excitement that
was causing the perspiration to stand on his forehead; "what got into
you?"

"I reckon it was something getting out of me," Drew replied with the
short cough.

"I don't know as them few words you spoke are capable of holding Jude
and Joyce eternally. What you think?"

"If they cannot, no others could." Again the quick, harsh cough.

"But that sermon!" Jock shrugged his shoulders nervously; "that's what's
shook the foundations of this here town. Leaving out the fact of you
being _you_, standing up there handling folks's feelings as you did, I
want to know if you stand by them ideas you passed out?"

"With all my mind!"

"Not elocuting and acting?"

"Surely not."

"Why, see here, kid, if what you said is true--which, by thunder it
ain't!--don't you see that doctrine, 'bout coming with an outfit, adding
to it, and taking away what you want, and leaving what you must; blazing
trails, clearing away underbrush and what not; why, don't you see that's
worse, by a confounded lot, than the old-fashioned hell?"

"Much, much more solemn." Drew leaned against a tree. His new strength
was exhausted. Jock was too absorbed to notice the weakness and pallor.

"Why," he went on excitedly, "when you know you're going to frizzle at
the end--just you, yourself, you can see the justice of it, and respect
what sent you there, but to eternally be thinking of others, and messing
up their lives--why that's durn rot."

"Filmer," the tone was low and faltering; "we're all one with God, no
matter how you put it. All working together; all bound on the same
journey. Think back; was there never one you loved who suffered with you
and for you? Have you ever considered how much of that one's life you
were hampering, when you dragged him--or her--down?"

Filmer's face twitched.

"Now, see here," he blurted out, and his eyes flash