at the Second Advent is now
imminent; and his fixing upon to-night is, of course, quite arbitrary.
God works by growth and development, not by violent miracle. If you
study the account of our Lord's first coming, you see that, not only was
there long preparation, but that the great miracle was hidden in the
beautiful disguise of natural processes. We must interpret all special
parts of the inspired Word by that which we learn of its Author in the
whole of His revelation, otherwise we should not deal as reverently with
it as we deal with the stray words of any human author."

The young man, if he did not understand, was certainly comforted by this
official opinion.

"I'm glad to hear you look upon it in that light," he said approvingly,
"for, to tell the truth, if I thought the millennium was coming to-night
I'd be real scared, although I've lived better than most young men of my
age do; but, some way, the millennium isn't the sort of thing I seem to
hanker after very much. I suppose, though, people as good as you would
like nothing so well as to see it begin at once."

Trenholme looked down at the sheet of paper before him, and absently
made marks upon it with his pen. He was thinking of the spiritual
condition of a soul which had no ardent desire for the advent of its
Lord, but it was not of the young man he was thinking.

"Of course," the latter continued, "I didn't suppose myself there was
anything in it--at least"--candidly--"I didn't in the day-time; but when
I found he'd gone out in the dark, and thought of all the times I'd
heard him praying--" he broke off. "He's real good. I'm a better fellow
for having lived with him so long, but I wish to goodness I'd never
caught him."

The word "caught," so expressive of the American's relation to the
wanderer, roused Trenholme's attention, and he asked now with interest,
"May I inquire why you did take possession of him and bring him here?"

"Well, as to that, I don't know that I'd like to tell," said the young
man, frankly. "Since I've lived with him I've seen my reasons to be none
of the best." He fidgeted now, rising, cap in hand. "I ought to go and
look after him," he said, "if I only knew where to go."

It struck Trenholme that Harkness had an idea where to go, and that his
questioning was really a prelude to its announcement. "Where do _you_
think he has gone?"

"Well, if you ask me what I think, Principal--but, mind, I haven't a
word of proof of it--I think