the same as on the
day of his dedication, except that Brother Paul was no longer with
them--Brother Andrew going first with the cross, then the lay brothers,
then the religious, then the Father, and John Storm last of all.

Though the courtyard was full of sunshine, the church looked dark and
gloomy. Curtains were drawn across the windows, and the altar was draped
as for a funeral. As soon as the brothers had taken their places in the
choir the Father stood on the altar steps and said:

"If any member of this community has one unfaithful thought of going back
to the outer world, I charge him to come to this altar now. But woe to
him through whom the offence cometh! Woe to him who turns back after
taking up the golden plough!"

John was kneeling in his place in the second row of the choir. The eyes
of the community were upon him. He hesitated a moment, then rose and
stepped up to the altar.

"My son," said the Father, "it is not yet too late. I see your fate as
plainly as I see you now. Shall I tell you what it is? Can you bear to
hear it? I see you going out into a world which has nothing to satisfy
the cravings of your soul. I see you foredoomed to failure and suffering
and despair. I see you coming back to us within a year with a broken and
bleeding heart. I see you taking the vows of lifelong consecration. Can
you face that future?"

"I must."

The Father drew a long breath. "It is inevitable," he said; and, taking a
book from the altar, he read the awful service of the degradation:

_"By the authority of God Almighty, Father [Symbol: Patee], Son, and Holy
Ghost, and by our own authority, we, the members of the Society of the
Holy Gethsemane, do take away from thee the habit of our Order, and
depose and degrade and deprive thee of all rights and privileges in the
spiritual goods and prayers which, by the grace of God, are done among
us."_

"Amen! Amen!" said the brothers.

During the reading of the service John had been kneeling. The Father
motioned to him to rise, and proceeded to remove the cord with which he
had bound him at his consecration. When this was done, he signalled to
Brother Andrew to take off the cassock.

The bell was tolled. The Father dropped on his knees. The brothers,
hoarse and husky, began to sing _In exitu Israel de Aegypto_. Their heads
were down, their voices seemed to come up out of the earth.

It was all over now. John Storm turned about, hardly able to see his way.
Brother An