side before all the world--going in once for all against everything
that's strong and rich, and proud and respectable, a little band of
brothers against the whole world. And the Doctor seemed to say so too,
only he said a great deal more."

"Ah!" groaned East, "but there again, that's just another of my
difficulties whenever I think about the matter. I don't want to be one
of your saints, one of your elect, whatever the right phrase is. My
sympathies are all the other way--with the many, the poor devils who run
about the streets and don't go to church. Don't stare, Tom; mind, I'm
telling you all that's in my heart--as far as I know it--but it's all a
muddle. You must be gentle with me if you want to land me. Now I've seen
a deal of this sort of religion; I was bred up in it, and I can't stand
it. If nineteen-twentieths of the world are to be left to uncovenanted
mercies, and that sort of thing, which means in plain English to go to
hell, and the other twentieth are to rejoice at it all, why--"

"Oh! but, Harry, they ain't, they don't," broke in Tom, really shocked.
"Oh, how I wish Arthur hadn't gone! I'm such a fool about these things.
But it's all you want too, East; it is indeed. It cuts both ways
somehow, being confirmed and taking the Sacrament. It makes you feel on
the side of all the good and all the bad too, of everybody in the world.
Only there's some great dark strong power, which is crushing you and
everybody else. That's what Christ conquered, and we've got to fight.
What a fool I am! I can't explain. If Arthur were only here!"

"I begin to get a glimmering of what you mean," said East.

"I say, now," said Tom eagerly, "do you remember how we both hated
Flashman?"

"Of course I do," said East; "I hate him still. What then?"

"Well, when I came to take the Sacrament, I had a great struggle about
that. I tried to put him out of my head; and when I couldn't do that, I
tried to think of him as evil--as something that the Lord who was loving
me hated, and which I might hate too. But it wouldn't do. I broke down;
I believe Christ Himself broke me down. And when the Doctor gave me the
bread and wine, and leant over me praying, I prayed for poor Flashman,
as if it had been you or Arthur."

East buried his face in his hands on the table. Tom could feel the table
tremble. At last he looked up. "Thank you again, Tom," said he; "you
don't know what you may have done for me to-night. I think I see now how
the right