gel's whisper, came
the remembered words of one who was an angel too: "Oh, Richard! don't
fail--don't fail to find Him and cling to Him, and come up,--come up
too."

Why, oh, why, of all times, did this gentle breathing come to him
here? It seemed to Trafford as if his wife's lips had whispered it
close to his ear, and he bowed his head upon his breast, while his
breath came quick and fast, and bitter tears of grief stood in his
eyes. Had God taken his treasures, one after another, and placed them
in that heaven which they all looked forward to, that his own wayward,
straying heart might be drawn thither? Was this last loss meant to be
the great affliction which, through love, should turn his heart toward
God and his kingdom? He could not tell; his heart was strangely
stirred and melted within him. It seemed to him as if that angel
whisper had driven the great burden of despair and agony out of his
heart by its gentle breathing, and left it broken and sorrowful, yet
not without peace and hope. He looked up at the stars and thought of
Noll, and wept. They were not tears of agony, and he did not rave and
groan. A slow step came along the sand, turning hither and thither, as
if in quest of some one. It drew near Trafford, at last, and a
tremulous old voice said,--

"Is dis ye, Mas'r Dick? Hagar's glad 'nough ter find ye, anyhow.
'Pears like she couldn't stay up ter de house, nohow,--'twas so
lonesome."

"Yes, I know, Hagar," said the man, without raising his head.

The twilight was so thick that the old negress could not see the
speaker's face, but a certain tremble and softness of his voice did
not escape her notice.

"Have ye foun' de Lord, Mas'r Dick?" she asked, quickly.

"I know not what I have found," Trafford answered, while his tears
fell; "but if I might find his face, and know that it smiled upon me,
I should care for little else."

"Now praise de Lord!" said Hagar, fervently; "dat's more'n ye ever
felt afore. Thar's help fur ye, Mas'r Dick, an' 'tain't fur off!"

"Too far for me to find it!" said Trafford; "he does not smile upon
those who have rejected him."

"Oh, chile!" said Hagar, in a shocked tone; "don't ye know de Lord's
all mercy an' lubbin' kin'ness? Don't ye know he won't 'spise an' hate
ye jes' as ef he was like a man? Oh, honey! Hagar's feared ter hear ye
talk like dat. 'Pears as ef ye made de Lord jes' like poor, eble,
good-fur-nuffin man."

Trafford made no reply.