Rabbi, in a low voice, without heat or
declamation, with frequent pauses and laboured breathing, as of one
toiling up a hill, argued the absolute supremacy of God and the utter
helplessness of man. One hand ever pressed the grapes, but with the
other the old man wiped the perspiration that rolled in beads down his
face. A painful stillness fell on the people as they felt themselves
caught in the meshes of this inexorable net and dragged ever nearer to
the abyss. Carmichael, who had been leaning forward in his place, tore
himself away from the preacher with an effort, and moved where he could
see the congregation. Campbell was drinking in every word as one for
the first time in his life perfectly satisfied. Menzies was huddled
into a heap in the top of his pew a man justly blasted by the anger of
the Eternal. Men were white beneath the tan, and it was evident that
some of the women would soon fall a-weeping. Children had crept close
to their mothers under a vague sense of danger, and a girl in the choir
watched the preacher with dilated eyeballs, like an animal fascinated
by terror.

"It is as a sword piercing the heart to receive this truth, but it is a
truth and must be believed. There are hundreds of thousands in the
past who were born and lived and died and were damned for the glory of
God. There are hundreds of thousands in this day who have been born
and are living and shall die and be damned for the glory of God. There
are hundreds of thousands in the future who shall be born and shall
live and shall die and shall be damned for the glory of God. All
according to the will of God, and none dare say nay nor change the
purpose of the Eternal." For some time the oil in the lamps had been
failing--since the Rabbi had been speaking for nigh two hours--and as
he came to an end of this passage the light began to flicker and die.
First a lamp at the end of Burnbrae's pew went out, and then another in
the front. The preacher made as though he would have spoken, but was
silent, and the congregation watched four lamps sink into darkness at
intervals of half a minute. There only remained the two pulpit lamps,
and in their light the people saw the Rabbi lift his right hand for the
first time.

"Shall . . . not . . . the . . . Judge . . . of all the earth . . .
do . . . right?" The two lamps went out together and a great sigh rose
from the people. At the back of the kirk a child wailed, and somewhere
in the fro