e bitter grief of his own heart was sensibly abated.

After his discourse was over and prayer had been offered up, the savage
warriors were silently formed into a band and marched off in front of
the Christians to the spot where Mr Mason had promised to set them
free. They shewed no disinclination to go. They believed in the good
faith of their captors. The missionary had, indeed, got them into his
power that day. Some of them he had secured _for ever_!

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

SORROW AND SYMPATHY--THE WIDOW BECOMES A PLEADER, AND HER SON ENGAGES IN
A SINGLE COMBAT.

There are times in the life of every one when the heart seems unable to
bear the load of sorrow and suffering that is laid upon it;--times when
the anguish of the soul is such that the fair world around seems
enshrouded with gloom, when the bright sun itself appears to shine in
mockery, and when the smitten heart refuses to be comforted.

Such a time was it with poor Frederick Mason when, after his return to
Sandy Cove, he stood alone, amid the blackened ruins of his former home,
gazing at the spot which he knew, from the charred remnants as well as
its position, was the site of the room which had once been occupied by
his lost child.

It was night when he stood there. The silence was profound, for the
people of the settlement sympathised so deeply with their beloved
pastor's grief that even the ordinary hum of life appeared to be hushed,
except now and then when a low wail would break out and float away on
the night wind. These sounds of woe were full of meaning. They told
that there were other mourners there that night--that the recent battle
had not been fought without producing some of the usual bitter fruits of
war. Beloved, but dead and mangled forms, lay in more than one hut in
Sandy Cove.

Motionless--hopeless--the missionary stood amid the charred beams and
ashes, until the words "Call upon me in the day of trouble and I will
deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me," descended on his soul like
sunshine upon ice. A suppressed cry burst from his lips, and, falling
on his knees, he poured forth his soul in prayer.

While he was yet on his knees, a cry of anguish arose from one of the
huts at the foot of the hill. It died away in a low, heart-broken wail.
Mr Mason knew its meaning well. That cry had a special significance
to him. It spoke reproachfully. It said, "There is comfort for _you_,
for where life is there is hope; but here