ilderness, a charity you forgot the day after you
did it, filled up the Chasm before you came to it. Here on The Plain
of Sinful Things we would naturally separate, for I had never wilfully
sinned against God. But you needed me, and He let me stay. Master,
your burden has fallen from you."

It was true. Orville was standing erect, with his eyes looking
straight at The Flaming Cross, which did not blind him. His burden had
vanished, and his face had almost the radiance of Michael's.

"The Cross is near you now, master. Look, It comes toward you. Your
pilgrimage is ending."

Orville could see It coming, gently and slowly. The Plain was now all
behind him, and yet it seemed as if he had scarcely gone over more
than a few yards of it. The harping of a thousand harps was not sweet
enough for the music that filled the air. Like the falling of many
waters in the distance came the promise of coolness to Orville's
parched throat and his burning lips. His breast heaved and he felt his
heart, full of Love, break in his bosom; but with it broke the bond of
Sin, and he knew that he was dead, indeed, to earth, as out from the
stained cover came his purified soul.

The Cross was close to him now. With his new spiritual vision he saw
that in form it was One like himself, but One with eyes that were soft
and mild and full of tenderness, with arms outstretched and
nail-prints like glittering gems upon them, with a wounded side and
out from it a flood pouring which cooled the parched sands, so that
from them the flowers sprang up, full panoplied in color, form and
beauty, and sweetly smelling. Around The Flaming Cross fluttered
countless wings, and childish voices made melody, soft and harmonious
beyond all compare. All else that Orville ever knew vanished before
the glance of the Beloved; faces and forms dearest and nearest, old
haunts and older affections, all were melted into this One Great Love
that is Eternal. The outstretched arms were wrapped around them. The
blood from the wounded side washed all their pains from them. On their
foreheads fell the Kiss of Peace, and Orville and Michael had come
home.

THE VICAR-GENERAL

The Vicar-General was dead. With his long, white hair smoothed back,
he lay upon a silk pillow, his hands clasped over a chalice upon his
breast. He was clad in priestly vestments; and he looked, as he lay in
his coffin before the great altar with the candles burning on it, as
if he were just ready t