ps.

The world was now a flood of sunshine, the mist on the river vanishing,
the birds singing, the trees waving in the pleasant morning air.
From the town came the roll of the drum summoning all to the week-day
service. The bells too began to ring, sounding sweetly through the clear
air. The Governor took off his hat. "Let's all to church, gentlemen," he
said gravely. "Our cheeks are flushed as with a fever and our pulses run
high this morning. There be some among us, perhaps, that have in their
hearts discontent, anger, and hatred. I know no better place to take
such passions, provided we bring them not forth again."

We went in and sat down. Jeremy Sparrow was in the pulpit. Singly or
in groups the town folk entered. Down the aisle strode bearded men,
old soldiers, adventurers, sailors, scarred body and soul; young men
followed, younger sons and younger brothers, prodigals whose portion had
been spent, whose souls now ate of the husks; to the servants' benches
came dull laborers, dimly comprehending, groping in the twilight; women
entered softly and slowly, some with children clinging to their skirts.
One came alone and knelt alone, her face shadowed by her mantle. Amongst
the servants stood a slave or two, blindly staring, and behind them all
one of that felon crew sent us by the King.

Through the open windows streamed the summer sunshine, soft and
fragrant, impartial and unquestioning, caressing alike the uplifted
face of the minister, the head of the convict, and all between. The
minister's voice was grave and tender when he read and prayed, but
in the hymn it rose above the people's like the voice of some mighty
archangel. That triumphant singing shook the air, and still rang in the
heart while we said the Creed.

When the service was over, the congregation waited for the Governor to
pass out first. At the door he pressed me to go with him and his party
to his own house, and I gave him thanks, but made excuse to stay away.
When he and the nobleman who was his guest had left the churchyard, and
the townspeople too were gone, I and my wife and the minister walked
home together through the dewy meadow, with the splendor of the morning
about us, and the birds caroling from every tree and thicket.

CHAPTER XI IN WHICH I MEET AN ITALIAN DOCTOR

THE summer slipped away, and autumn came, with the purple of the grape
and the yellowing corn, the nuts within the forest, and the return of
the countless wild fowl