"Stumpy, Stumpy, what shall I do?"

He drew her hand very gently through his arm. "We will go back, dear," he
said.

A low sob escaped her, but she did not weep. "If I only had the strength
to go on and on and on!" she said. "I know I should find him some day
then."

"You will find him some day," he answered with grave assurance. "But not
yet."

They went back to the turn in the road where the sound of the stream rose
like fairy music from an unseen glen. The snow lay pure and untrodden
under the trees.

Scott paused again, and this time Isabel made no remonstrance. They stood
together listening to the rush of the torrent.

"How beautiful this place must be in springtime!" he said.

She gave a sharp shiver. "It is like a dead world now."

"A world that will very soon rise again," he answered.

She looked at him with vague eyes. "You are always talking of the
resurrection," she said.

"When I am with you, I am often thinking of it," he said with simplicity.

A haunted look came into her face. "But that implies--death," she said,
her voice very low.

"And what is Death?" said Scott gently, as if he reasoned with a child.
"Do you think it is more than a step further into Life? The passing of a
boundary, that is all."

"But there is no returning!" she protested piteously. "It must be more
than that."

"My dear, there is never any returning," he said gravely. "None of us can
go backwards. Yesterday is but a step away, but can we retrace that step?
No, not one of us."

She made a sudden, almost fierce gesture. "Oh, to go back!" she cried.
"Oh, to go back! Why should we be forced blindly forward when we only
want to go back?"

"That is the universal law," said Scott. "That is God's Will."

"It is cruel! It is cruel!" she wailed.

"No, it is merciful. So long as there is Death in the world we must go
on. We have got to get past Death."

She turned her tragic eyes upon him. "And what then? What then?"

Scott was gazing steadfastly into her face of ravaged beauty. "Then--the
resurrection," he said. "There are millions of people in the world,
Isabel, who are living out their lives solely for the sake of that,
because they know that if they only keep on, the Resurrection will give
back to them all that they have lost. My dear, it is not going back that
could help anyone. The past is past, the present is passing; there is
only the future that can restore all things. We are bound to go forward,
and thank