is not that what the God you believe in does every day?"

"My lord, the God I believe in has not lost his control over either of
us."

"Then let him set the thing right! Why should we draw his plough?"

"He will set it right, my lord,--but probably in a way your lordship
will not like. He is compelled to do terrible things sometimes."

"Compelled!--what should compel him?"

"The love that is in him, the love that he is. He cannot let us have
our own way to the ruin of everything in us he cares for!"

Then the spirit awoke in Donal--or came upon him--and he spoke.

"My lord," he said, "if you would ever again be able to thank God; if
there be one in the other world to whom you would go; if you would make
up for any wrong you have ever done; if you would ever feel in your
soul once more the innocence of a child; if you care to call God your
father; if you would fall asleep in peace and wake to a new life; I
conjure you to resist the devil, to give up the evil habit that is
dragging you lower and lower every hour. It will be very hard, I know!
Anything I can do, watching with you night and day, giving myself to
help you, I am ready for. I will do all that lies in me to deliver you
from the weariness and sickness of the endeavour. I will give my life
to strengthen yours, and count it well spent and myself honoured: I
shall then have lived a life worth living! Resolve, my lord--in God's
name resolve at once to be free. Then you shall know you have a free
will, for your will will have made itself free by doing the will of God
against all disinclination of your own. It will be a glorious victory,
and will set you high on the hill whose peak is the throne of God."

"I will begin to-morrow," said the earl feebly, and with a strange look
in his eyes. "--But now you must leave me. I need solitude to
strengthen my resolve. Come to me again to-morrow. I am weary, and must
rest awhile. Send Simmons."

Donal was nowise misled by the easy, postponed consent, but he could
not prolong the interview. He rose and went. In the act of shutting the
door behind him, something, he did not know what, made him turn his
head: the earl was leaning over the little table by his bedside, and
pouring something from a bottle into a glass. Donal stood transfixed.
The earl turned and saw him, cast on him a look of almost demoniacal
hate, put the glass to his lips and drank off its contents, then threw
himself back on his pillows. Donal shut the