nal account of the same tale, and with this difference,
that instead of giving the simple and sentimental view of the French
writer, the English journalist jeered greatly, and also stated that the
nickname Lazarus had been given in derision, and that the man, who was
either mad or an imposter, had been hooted, pelted, and even beaten in
the streets.

"Is that all?" she asked.

"Unless you can tell me any more." He did not say this lightly.

"Is that all?" she asked again, as if his words had been unmeaning.

"Well now, I think that's enough. 'Tisn't every day this poor earth of
ours is favoured by hearing sermons from one as has been t'other side of
dying. I think it would be more worth while to hear him than to go to
church, I do."

"Do you mean to say," she asked, with some asperity, "that you really
believe it?"

"I tell you I saw the first part of it myself, and unless you can give
me a good reason for not believing the second, I'm inclined to swallow
it down whole, Miss Cameron--I beg your pardon, White, I mean. One gets
real confused in names, occasionally."

"Well," said Eliza, composedly, preparing to leave him, "I can't say I
understand it, Mr. Harkness, but I must say it sounds too hard for me to
believe."

He looked after her with intense curiosity in his eyes, and in the next
few days returned to the subject in her presence again and again,
repeating to her all the comments that were made on the story in the
bar-room, but he could not rouse her from an appearance of cheerful
unconcern.

Another item appeared in the papers; the old man called Cameron had been
brought before the magistrates at Quebec for some street disturbance of
which he appeared to have been the innocent cause.

Upon this Cyril Harkness took a whim into his head, which he made known
to all his friends in the place, and then to Eliza--a most extraordinary
whim, for it was nothing less than to go down to Quebec, and take the
street preacher under his own protection.

"I feel as if I had a sort of responsibility," said he, "for I was at
the very beginning of this whole affair, and saw the house where he had
lived, and I got real well acquainted with his partner, who no doubt had
ill-treated him. I saw the place where a daughter of his perished too,
and now he's got so near up here as this, I can't bear to think of that
old man being ill-treated and having no one to look after him. I'm going
right down to Quebec by the Saturday-ni