--and we couldn't--we didn't see--"

"The fact is," Mr. Vedder put in, "we were losing touch with each
other."

"There is nothing like a big house," said Mrs. Vedder, "to separate a
man and his wife."

"So we came down here," said Mr. Vedder, "built this little cottage, and
developed this garden mostly with our own hands. We would have sold the
big house long ago if it hadn't been for our friends. They like it."

"I have never heard a more truly romantic story," said I.

And it WAS romantic: these fine people escaping from too many
possessions, too much property, to the peace and quietude of a garden
where they could be lovers again.

"It seems, sometimes," said Mrs. Vedder, "that I never really believed
in God until we came down here--"

"I saw the verse on the table in the arbour," said I.

"And it is true," said Mr. Vedder. "We got a long, long way from God for
many years: here we seem to get back to Him."

I had fully intended to take the road again that afternoon, but how
could any one leave such people as those? We talked again late that
night, but the next morning, at the leisurely Sunday breakfast, I set
my hour of departure with all the firmness I could command. I left
them, indeed, before ten o'clock that forenoon. I shall never forget
the parting. They walked with me to the top of the hill, and there we
stopped and looked back. We could see the cottage half hidden among the
trees, and the little opening that the precious garden made. For a time
we stood there quite silent.

"Do you remember," I said presently, "that character in Homer who was
a friend of men and lived in a house by the side of the road? I shall
always think of you as friends of men--you took in a dusty traveller.
And I shall never forget your house by the side of the road."

"The House by the Side of the Road--you have christened it anew, David
Grayson," exclaimed Mrs. Vedder.

And so we parted like old friends, and I left them to return to their
garden, where "'tis very sure God walks."

CHAPTER IV. I AM THE SPECTATOR OF A MIGHTY BATTLE, IN WHICH CHRISTIAN
MEETS APPOLLYON

It is one of the prime joys of the long road that no two days are ever
remotely alike--no two hours even; and sometimes a day that begins
calmly will end with the most stirring events.

It was thus, indeed, with that perfect spring Sunday, when I left my
friends, the Vedders, and turned my face again to the open country. It
began as quietly as any Sa