t was found that his clothing was still wet, so, as it
was absolutely necessary that he should go to fulfil an appointment, it
was arranged that he should retain Matalette's clothing, and return
within a few days for his own.

Then Matalette, learning that the young man was traveling his circuit on
foot, insisted on lending him a horse, and on giving him money with
which to purchase one.

It was a great sum of money--more than his salary for a year amounted
to--and the young man's feelings almost overcame him as he tried to
utter his thanks; but just then Helen made her first appearance during
the morning, and from the instant she greeted Crewne all thoughts of
gratitude seemed to escape his mind, unless, indeed, he suddenly
determined to express his thanks through a third party. Such a
supposition would have been fully warranted by the expressive looks he
cast upon Helen's handsome face.

Had any member of the flock at Mount Pisgah Station seen these two young
people during the moment or two which followed Helen's appearance, he
would have sorrowfully but promptly dismissed from his mind any
expectation of hearing the sermon which Crewne had promised to preach at
Mount Pisgah that morning. But the young preacher was of no ordinary
human pattern: with sorrow, yet determination, he bade Helen good-by,
and though, as he rode away, he frequently turned his head, he never
stopped his horse.

Down the road through the dense forest he went, trying, by reading his
Bible as he rode, to get his mind in proper condition for a mighty
effort at Mount Pisgah. He wasn't conscious of doing such a thing--he
could honestly lay his hand on his heart and say he hadn't the slightest
intention of doing anything of the kind, yet somehow his Bible opened at
the Song of Solomon. For a moment he read, but for a moment only; then
he shut his lips tightly, and deliberately commenced reading the Book of
Psalms.

He had fairly restored his mind to working shape, and was just
whispering fervent thanks to the Lord, when a couple of horsemen
galloped up to him. As he turned his head to see who they might be, he
observed that each of them held a pistol in a very threatening manner.
As he looked, however, the pistols dropped, and one of the riders
indulged in a profane expression of disappointment.

"It's Matalette's clothes and horse, Jim," he said to his companion,
"but it's the preacher's face.

"And you have been providentially deferred fro