and Mrs.
Bellamy, who had taken Mrs. Furze's place, left the room. She did not
think it proper to intrude when the clergyman visited anybody who was
dying. Mr. Cardew remained standing and speechless.

"Sit down, Mr. Cardew. I felt that I should like to see you once more."

He sat down by the bedside.

"Do you mind opening the window and drawing up the blind again? It has
fallen a little. That is better: now I can see the meadows and away
towards the bridge foot. Will you give me a glass of water?"

She drank the water: he looked steadily at her, and he knew too well what
was on her face. Her hand dropped on the bed: he fell on his knees
beside her with that hand in his, but still he was dumb, and not a single
article of his creed which he had preached for so many years presented
itself to him: forgiveness, the atonement, heaven--it had all vanished.

"Mr. Cardew, I want to say something."

"Wait a moment, let me tell you--_you have saved me_."

She smiled, her lips moved, and she whispered--

"_You_ have saved _me_."

By their love for each other they were both saved. The disguises are
manifold which the Immortal Son assumes in the work of our redemption.

* * * * *

Tom henceforth wore the ring on his finger. Mr. Cardew resigned his
living, and did not preach for many years. When pressed for an
explanation he generally gave his health as an excuse. Later in life he
took up work again in a far distant, purely agricultural parish, but his
sermons were of the simplest kind--exhortations to pity, consideration,
gentleness, and counsels as to the common duties of life. He spent much
of his time in visiting his parishioners and in helping them in their
difficulties. Mrs. Cardew, as we have said, died before him, but no
woman ever had a husband more tender and devoted than hers in these later
years. He had changed much, and she knew it, but she did not know
exactly how, nor did she know the reason. It was not the kind of change
which comes from a new theory or a new principle: it was something
deeper. Some men are determined by principles, and others are drawn and
directed by a vision or a face. Before Mr. Cardew was set for evermore
the face which he saw white and saintly at Chapel Farm that May Sunday
morning when death had entered, and it controlled and moulded him with an
all-pervading power more subtle and penetrating than that which could
have been exercised by theology or ethics.