nvoice' of good things to come, and I am filled with the peace and
content I generally enjoy."

A few words of congratulation and sympathy were spoken by another
grey-headed deacon, after which a silence fell upon the meeting, the
preacher making no comment upon what he had heard. The tick of the
clock on the gallery, the distant swish of the waves, and the soft
sighing of the evening breeze alone were audible.

At length another voice broke the silence. It was Ebben Owens, who was
standing up, and for a moment looking round at the old familiar faces
of his fellow worshippers.

It had been a frequent custom of his to relate his religious
experiences at the "Sciets," so neither Ann nor her husband were
surprised; but Morva detected something unusual in the old man's
manner. At many a meeting he had confessed to the frailties of human
nature, with platitudes, and expressions of repentance, which had lost
all reality from constant repetition. But he had satisfied the
meeting, and at the end of it he had taken up his hat, smoothed his
hair down over his forehead, and walked out of the chapel in the odour
of sanctity. To-night it was a very different man who stood there. At
first his voice was low and trembling, but as he proceeded it gathered
strength, so that his words were audible even in the corner pew, whose
little shrivelled occupant was eagerly listening, in the hopes that
another person's experience--and he a good man--might throw some light
upon her own difficulties.

"Good people all!" said the old man, "will you bear with me for a few
moments, while I unburden my mind of a weight that is pressing sore
upon me? and God grant that none of you may suffer what I have suffered
lately! but justly--remember justly am I punished.

"You think you know me well, my dear friends. 'There is Ebben Owens
Garthowen,' you say, 'our deacon,' and perhaps you say 'an upright man
and honest!' But I am here to-night to tell you what I am in truth. I
have stood before you dozens of times, and told you of want of
faith--of cold prayers--and lack of interest in holy things. I have
asked for your prayers many times, and have gone home and forgotten to
pray myself! Yes, I have been your deacon for thirty years, and all
that time I have deceived you, and deceived myself. I never told you
about my real sins, but you shall know to-night what Ebben Owens is. I
have been weak and yielding in money matters--have lent and given m