t as though he were going forth
immediately, on his way to Silverbridge. The night was now pitch
dark, and the rain was falling, and abroad he would encounter all the
severity of the pitiless winter. Still it might have been better that
he should have gone. The exercise and the fresh air, even the wet and
the mud, would have served to bring back his mind to reason. But his
wife thought of the misery of the journey, of his scanty clothing, of
his worn boots, of the need there was to preserve the raiment which
he wore; and she remembered that he was fasting,--that he had eaten
nothing since the morning, and that he was not fit to be alone. She
stopped him, therefore, before he could reach the door.

"Your bidding shall be done," she said,--"of course."

"Tell them, then, that they must seek me here if they want me."

"But, Josiah, think of the parish,--of the people who respect
you,--for their sakes let it not be said that you were taken away by
policemen."

"Was St Paul not bound in prison? Did he think of what the people
might see?"

"If it were necessary, I would encourage you to bear it without a
murmur."

"It is necessary, whether you murmur, or do not murmur. Murmur
indeed! Why does not your voice ascend to heaven with one loud wail
against the cruelty of man?" Then he went forth from the room into an
empty chamber on the other side of the passage; and his wife, when
she followed him there after a few minutes, found him on his knees,
with his forehead against the floor, and with his hands clutching at
the scanty hairs of his head. Often before had she seen him so, on
the same spot, half grovelling, half prostrate in prayer, reviling
in his agony all things around him,--nay, nearly all things above
him,--and yet striving to reconcile himself to his Creator by the
humiliation of confession.

It might be better for him now, if only he could bring himself to
some softness of heart. Softly she closed the door, and placing the
candle on the mantle-shelf, softly she knelt beside him, and softly
touched his hand with hers. He did not stir nor utter a single word,
but seemed to clutch at his thin locks more violently than before.
Then she kneeling there, aloud, but with a low voice, with her thin
hands clasped, uttered a prayer in which she asked her God to remove
from her husband the bitterness of that hour. He listened till she
had finished, and then he rose slowly to his feet. "It is all in
vain," said he. "It i