had
been sufficient to stir his soul to even deeper harmonies: and he
stood there forgetful of his shaven head, his prison stripes, once
more a man among men.

"Father! My father! I have come! Margot, baby Margot! Come to set you
free!"

Her arms were about his neck, her wet face pressed close to his, her
tender kisses poured upon his lips, his dazed, unseeing eyes, his
trembling shoulders.

Then he put out his hand and held her from him, that he might the
better see her fairness, hear her marvelous story--told in few words,
and comprehend what was the merciful, the Heaven-sent bliss that had
come to him.

"Cecily! Margot! My daughter with her mother's face! Free! Free! Oh!
God, support me!"

The indomitable courage which suffering had had no power to weaken
failed in this supreme moment; and as, in his hours of darkness, he
had clung to his music for sustenance so he turned to it now. He
pressed his violin to his shoulder, leaned his cheek upon it, and from
its quivering strings drew out in melody the story of his fifteen
years. All the bitterness, the sadness, the sweetness; and that
exalted faith which had made the mystery of his life, and his shame,
almost divine.

Blinded by their own tears, one by one, the others left them, and when
the last strain ended in a burst of joyous victory, there were but two
to hear it--parent and child.

* * * * *

Adrian watched the train that bore them homeward roll away, with a
heart both heavy and glad. In fancy he could see them reach that
journey's end; with brother clasping the hand of brother, the silent,
wonderful forest receiving them into its restful solitude. He could
see that great room which had waited for its occupant so many years,
and which was now all aglow from its flame-filled fireplace, and
redolent with wild flowers. He could see the wide couch drawn up
before the hearth and a toil-worn man, who had not rested before in
fifteen years, lying there with grateful, adoring eyes fixed upon that
pictured Face of The Man of Sorrows.

There was a girl in the room, moving everywhere in needless, tender
care that nothing should be wanting. As if anything ever could be
wanting where Margot was! The innocent, great-hearted child of nature,
whose love no obstacle could overcome, and who hesitated at no danger
for love's sweet sake.

_Best Books_

_FOR BOYS AND GIRLS_

A series of books for young people that contains the