-and-fourscore this day; and if
I am called on to lay it down for the Lord, it will only be a few months
at the furthest that I have to give Him. It wouldn't take so much to
kill me, neither. An old man dies maybe easier than one in the full
vigour of life. But you, my dear Pastor!--and the young fellows among
us--Guelph, and Conrad, and Dietbold, and Wilhelm--it'll be harder work
for the young saplings to stand the blast, than for the old oak whose
boughs have bent before a thousand storms. There would most likely be a
long term of suffering before you, when my rest was won."

"Then our rest would be the sweeter," replied Gerhardt softly. "`He
knoweth the way that we take; when He hath tried us, we shall come forth
as gold.' He is faithful, who will not suffer us to be tried above that
we are able to bear. And He can make us able to bear any thing."

Gerhardt was just turning into Kepeharme Lane, when a voice at his elbow
made him pause and look back.

"Did you want me, friend?"

"No," answered a hoarse voice, in a significant tone. "You want me."

Gerhardt smiled. "I thank you, then, for coming to my help. I almost
think I know your voice. Are you not Rubi, the brother of Countess, who
made such a pet of my little child?"

An affirmative grunt was the response.

"Well, friend?"

"If an open pit lay just across this street, between you and the Walnut
Tree, what would you do?" asked the hoarse voice.

"That would depend on how necessary it was that I should pass it, would
it not?"

"Life this way--death that way," said Rubi shortly.

"And what way honour?"

"Pshaw! `All that a man hath will he give for his life.'"

"Truth: yet even life, sometimes, will a man give for glory, patriotism,
or love. There is a life beyond this, friend Rubi; and for that, no
price were too high to pay."

"Men may weigh gold, but not clouds," answered Rubi in a rather scornful
tone.

"Yet how much gold would purchase the life-giving water that comes from
the clouds?" was Gerhardt's ready response.

"At how much do you value your life?" asked Rubi without answering the
question.

"Truly, friend, I know not how to respond to that. Do you count my life
to be in danger, that you ask me?"

"Not if the morning light come to you in Aylesbury or Cricklade--at
least, perchance not. But if it dawn on you where you can hear the bell
from yon tower--ay, I do."

"I perceive your meaning. You would have me to fly."