bly, there came over the
little group a feeling of awe and wonderment, and the silence was
profound. Still steadying himself by the reading-desk, he went on to
speak of other things, of those of his followers who listened, of the
great mass swirling about them in the streets who did not listen and did
not care; of the little life that now is so full of pain and hardship
and disappointment, of good intentions frustrated, of hopes that
deceive, and of fair prospects that turn to ashes, of good lives that
go wrong, of sweet natures turned to bitterness in the unaided struggle.
His voice grew stronger and clearer, as his body responded to the
kindling theme in his soul. He stepped away from the desk nearer the
rail, the bowed head was raised. "What does it matter?" he said. "It is
only for a little while, my children." Those who heard him that day say
that his face shone like that of an angel, and that his voice was like a
victorious clarion, so clear, so sweet, so inspiring, as he spoke of the
life that is to come, and the fair certainty of that City where he with
them all wished to be.

As he closed, some were kneeling, many were crying; all, profoundly
moved, watched him as, with the benediction and the sign of the cross,
he turned and walked swiftly to the door of the sacristy. It opened, and
then Ruth Leigh heard a cry, "Father Damon! Father Damon!" and there was
a rush into the chancel. Hastening through the throng, which promptly
made way for the doctor, she found Father Damon lying across the
threshold, as he had fallen, colorless and unconscious. She at once took
command of the situation. The body was lifted to the plain couch in the
room, a hasty examination was made of pulse and heart, a vial of brandy
was produced from her satchel, and messengers were despatched for things
needed, and especially for beef-tea.

"Is he dead, Dr. Leigh? Is he any better, doctor? What is the matter,
doctor?"

"Want of nourishment," replied Dr. Leigh, savagely.

The room was cleared of all except a couple of stout lads and a friendly
German woman whom the doctor knew. The news of the father's sudden
illness had spread rapidly, with the report that he had fallen dead
while standing at the altar; and the church was thronged, and the street
rapidly blocked up with a hushed crowd, eager for news and eager to give
aid. So great was the press that the police had to interfere, and push
back the throng from the door. It was useless to at