d he has the Lord Himself in the midst of it all."

But this was a mistake on Katie's part. For all this time, strangely
and sadly enough, he was ringing the changes on his old complaint: "Thou
art a God that hidest Thyself." He had not the Lord Himself in those
days. Even when he pleaded, as he did day and night, for Davie's life,
it was the cry of despair that came out of his sore trouble, rather than
the "prayer of faith" to which the promise of healing to the sick is
given.

And as he bowed himself down beneath the pines, it was the same. He was
in a maze of perplexity and fear. Had he been sinning against God all
this time? Had he been hating not the sin, but the sinner? Had it been
beneath God's hand that he had been refusing to bow? And now was God
leaving him to hardness of heart?

For he was utterly broken and spent, and in the weakness of mind which
exhaustion of body caused, he had almost lost the power to discriminate
or reason. He could not command his thoughts. The wind moaned in the
pines above him, and the sunshine came and went, flickering and fading,
and brightening again, and with the monotonous sound and the
ever-changing light, there came voices and visions, and he seemed to
listen as in a dream:

"It was God's will, grandfather. God kens, and it was His will. I
would fain hear you say once that you have forgiven your enemy."

His enemy! Was Jacob Holt his enemy? And if he were, could even an
enemy bring evil on him or his without permission? What had it all come
to--the long pain, the persistent shrinking from this man, whom God
alone might judge? Had he been hating him all this time--bringing
leanness to his own soul, and darkness, and all the evil that hatred
must ever bring? And where was it all to end? And what must he do, now
that his sin had found him out?

For his time was short, and the end near. And then his thoughts
wandered away to the old squire lying on his death-bed--the man who had
declared himself willing to stand on the same platform with old David
Fleming, when his time should come to be judged. And that time was
close at hand now, and his own time could not be far away, and then he
must stand face to face with Him whose last words were, "Father, forgive
them!"--face to face with Him who had said, "Love your enemies,"
"Forgive, and it shall be forgiven unto you."

Over and over the same round his thoughts went, till, worn out with
anxiety and watching,