raised her face
of misery and her bloodstained hands toward Heaven.

"God!" she cried. "Look at my hands! See God! Here it is--my baby's
blood. Come, God, and see my boy. He's getting stiff--but come,
God--come! See the bruises and the blood! See the face--the little face,
all full of pain and fear--and feel the crushed bones, God! He is
getting cold--cold--cold! The boy's dead!"

She caught up one of the child's hands and pressed it convulsively.
After a moment's silence she began again, suddenly, fiercely:

"Is there any God? Where is he? Where does he stay? Not with Christians.
They have the power, if God were with them, to stop the curse. No, not
with them. They do not stop it. No. They license it, they do. 'Woe, woe
to him that puts the bottle to his neighbor's lips.' They do! They do!
But God must be somewhere. God come out of somewhere!"

The wind blew and the light flickered. Allison and Sammie, looking in,
seemed riveted to the spot. It was not a pleasant picture, yet they
gazed.

"My husband a murderer!" wailed the woman. "The boy's blood on his
hands? Lord God! I never want to see his face again! Have mercy on his
soul! Perhaps he cannot help it now--he is a madman. Love him if you
can--I loved him once."

Something like a sob sounded in the woman's voice, but she choked it
back. After a moment of silence she moved a short distance from the
little corpse, and, raising herself upright on her knees, with her hands
clasped at arm's length over her head, she prayed.

It was not a Christlike prayer--rather the helpless cry of a soul
tortured, in the grasp of a Christianized sin.

"Lord God! Down deep in Hell--away down--down where the fire is hottest,
and the black blackest, and the smoke thickest, there let the man be
bound forever who covers the business of Hell with a respectable
covering. There forever let him see my boy's piteous, quivering face;
let him hear the dying moan and see the red blood! I know them, God! You
know them, God--you know them! Hear my prayer!"

Another gust of wind came, nearer and stronger, and the lamp flickered
out. It was quiet. Very quiet. So quiet that Allison and Sammie heard
the sigh that escaped the woman's lips. It was a heavy sigh, filled with
tears and utter despair.

A sigh that went farther than all the sighing winds had ever gone. A
sigh that was wafted far above to the great God who keeps record of the
sighs that come up from the hearts of a million drunkards