were so soon to know them
no more forever; when the service was over, they would retrace their
steps to the door of the now deserted church, and backward turning,
would cast one longing, lingering look behind, then set their peaceful
faces towards their home, the long rough journey near its end at last.

The elders, including the four recently added to their number, met as
usual, for preparatory prayer. More than ordinary tenderness seemed to
mark their petitions, for their hearts were with the absent; and the
senior elder thrilled us when he prayed for "him whom we had hoped to
begin his ministry this day, and for Thy servant who was wont in the
days that are past to serve with us before Thine altar."

As I walked into the pulpit, I caught a glimpse of Margaret's face, and
never have I seen sweeter peace than rested upon it. Her eyes reposed on
the snowy cloth that hid the emblems of a greater sacrifice, and she
knew, as few could know, the deep sacramental joy.

But hardly had my heart warmed at sight of her before sorrow chilled its
ardour; for right opposite Margaret's pew was that of Michael Blake--and
its emptiness smote my heart with pain. Not there, nor in his rightful
place among the elders, was my old-time friend. Where, I could not help
but wonder, where to-day is the unhappy man who has cast his ministry
behind him? And bitter memories of varied verdicts flitted before me as
I went up the pulpit steps.

We had begun the psalm, and were in the midst of the line--never can I
forget it:

"As far as east is distant from
The west, so far hath he"

when I noticed the volume of song become gradually less, and a nameless
sense of discomfort possessed me.

I looked up, and could scarce restrain a cry.

For I saw the face of Michael Blake--and he was walking down the
aisle---- And that other, who is that? For beside him is a woman's
comely form, her sweet face lowly bent as though it would be hidden, the
light of purity mingling with the conscious flame.

Upon Mr. Blake's face is the humble chastened look of one whom God has
touched--in the hollow of his thigh, mayhap--and the limp may be seen of
all men to the last. But pride is there too, the solemn pride of one who
has wrestled and prevailed, to go henceforth forever halting, but
forever heavenward.

Down the aisle, the same aisle by which he had departed from us, they
walked together, while wondering faces drank in the meaning of it all,
joy