d fell into rank and followed their commander, while a
motly crowd brought up the rear.

Blair stood on the familiar door-step. He laid his hand on the lock, and
paused for a second to calm his swelling emotions, in which gratitude to
God was even stronger than the deep love for his mother.

Quietly sat Mrs. Robertson, plying the needle at her fireside, when the
door gently opened, and her son stood before her.

That was a moment of joy too deep for description. While the mother and
son were clasped in a long embrace, Hal could not help having his share
of the interview by crying out, "He's come home! Be n't it splendid?
He's come! Dear, dear, I shall burst."

"You dear good fellow," said Blair, throwing his arm over Hal's
shoulder, "you've been a comfort to my mother, I know."

"That he has," said Mrs. Robertson. "It was he who told me how your
noble courage saved your native town and the very home of your mother
from the flames. I thank God for such a son."

"Then I did what you would have wished, mother. Your praise is my
precious reward," said Blair with affectionate simplicity.

"God has sustained you in the path of duty, and brought you in safety to
your home and your mother. Let us thank him for all his mercies, my
son. Hal is no stranger to prayer now; he will gladly join us."

It was indeed the voice of true thanksgiving which rose from those
grateful hearts. He who has contrived joys for the meanest of his
creatures, doubtless takes a pure pleasure in the happiness which he
gives to his chosen ones even here; and rejoices to know that it is but
the foreshadowing of that eternal delight in store for them where
parting shall be no more.

CHAPTER XX.

SACRED JOY.

Sweetly the Sabbath bells sounded in the ear of Blair Robertson. What a
joy it was to be once more at home, once more in his native land. How
delightful the thought that prayer had already gone up from many family
altars, and already Christ's little ones were gathering to be taught of
him and sing his praise. To dwell among the ungodly is indeed a bitter
trial. The society of the unprincipled had been to Blair like a dark
cloud overshadowing his pathway; and it was a new delight to him to be
once more among the people of God. What a blessing it seemed to him to
be a dweller in the land of light and liberty, where the free
worshippers might pray and praise without let or hinderance from
ungodly men.

Full of such glad thoughts, he