p him.

As he walked on he overtook a stout man of middle age dressed heavily
in brown who appeared to be a priest, and who turned upon him a benign
countenance.

"Why do you travel so fast for one on foot?" asked the man.

"Because I feel strong and my errand takes me far, Father."

"If it takes you far, my son, the less speed in the beginning the
greater at the end."

"True, Father," said John, slackening his pace, and glancing at the
shrewd face which was also both ruddy and kindly. "The Church can give
good advice in temporal as well as spiritual matters."

"Even so, my son," said the priest, who had noted John's frank
countenance, his width between the eyes. "One of my vocation cannot go
through life merely looking inward. Come, walk with me. The world is
mad, gone wholly mad, but let us try to be two sane beings in it for a
little while."

"Thanks, Father," said John. "I can wish no better company. I agree with
you that the world has gone mad. I have seen its madness at its height."

"And at such a time the Church, Protestant or Catholic, must do the best
it can. But we are so few, while so many souls are leaving their bodies.
And yet I tell you, young sir, that not one man in a hundred of this
great European peasantry knows why he fights. I, a priest, may speak
freely, and I do so because my mind is full of indignation this
morning."

"I do not love war, either. You see I walk away from it. But why are
you on foot, Father?"

"By preference. I might have gone in one of the automobiles with the
soldiers, but they are a part of the war madness, and I wished to be
alone. You will learn with years that it's well to be alone at times,
when one may take the measure of himself and those about him. I have
chosen to walk this morning, because it makes my blood run better, and
the winds at least are pure."

"I find the case the same with me, sir. My best thoughts usually come
when I'm walking and alone."

The priest threw out his hands in a wide gesture.

"We agree, I see," he said. "You appear to be a peasant, but your voice
is that of another kind. No, do not protest or say anything. It is no
business of mine that you're not the peasant you claim to be, nor do I
ask the nature of your errand behind the German army."

"I could not tell it to you, Father, but it is an errand of peace. I
think it the highest and holiest I could undertake, and, in undertaking
it, I believe myself to be animated by such a spi