at GOD has for those who
abide with Him, even here, who can describe? It's worth trying for,
lad; it would be worth trying for, on the chance of GOD fulfilling His
promises, if His Word were an open question. How well worth any
effort, any struggle, you'll know when you stand where I stand
to-night."

We had reached the front steps of the house as he said this. The last
few sentences had been spoken in jerks, and he seemed alarmingly
feeble. I shrank from understanding what he meant by his last words,
though I knew he did not refer to the actual spot on which we stood.
The garden was black now in the gloaming. The reflection from the
yellow light left by the sunset in the west gave an unearthly
brightness to his face, and I fancied something more than common in
the voice with which he quoted:

"Jesu, spes poenitentibus,
Quam pius es petentibus!
Quam bonus te quaerentibus!
_Sed quid invenientibus_!"

But I was fanciful that Sunday, or his nervous "fads" were infectious
ones; for on me also the superstition was strong to-night that it was
"the last time."

CHAPTER XXVI

I HEAR FROM MR. JONATHAN ANDREWES--YORKSHIRE--ALATHEA _alias_
BETTY--WE BURY OUR DEAD OUT OF OUR SIGHT--VOICES OF THE NORTH

I sat up for a short time with my father on my return. When I went to
bed, to my amazement Sweep was absent, and I could not find him
anywhere. I did not like to return to the Rectory, for fear of
disturbing Mr. Andrewes' rest, so I went to bed without my dog.

I was up early next morning, for I had resolved to go to the station
to see Mr. Andrewes off, though his train was an early one, that I
might disabuse him of his superstition by our meeting once more. It
was with a secret sense of relief, for my own part, that I saw him
arranging his luggage. Sweep, by-the-by, had turned up to breakfast,
and was with me.

"I've come to see you off," I shouted, "and to break the charm of
_last times_, and Sweep has come too."

"Strange to say, Sweep came back to me last night, after you left,"
said the Rector, laughing; "and he added omen to superstition by
sitting under the window when I turned him out, and howling like a
Banshee."

Sweep himself looked rather foolish as he wagged his tail in answer
to the Rector's greeting. He had the air of saying, "We were all a
little excited last night. Let it pass."

For my own part I felt quite reassured. The Rector was in his sunniest
mood, and as he watched us