had my plea out with my Maker. If I did sin, I have paid
the price of the sin. Your mother was given to me, and in two years
the Lord took her away. I thought to fill my eyes with a sight
of the whole world, and I was sent to this desolate place for a
life-sentence, to bide its storm and gloom and gust and poverty, and
in this bit cabin to dree a long, fierce wrestle with Death, knowing
all the time he would get the mastery over me in the end." Then,
suddenly pausing, his gray face glowed with passionate rapture,
and lifting up his right hand he cried out: "No, no, David; _I_ am
the conqueror! There are two ways of dying, my lad--victory and
defeat. Thank God, I have the victory through Jesus Christ, my
Lord and Saviour!"

"Who is the propitiation for all sin, father."

"Sin!" cried the dying man, "sin! I have nothing to do with sin. 'Who
shall lay anything to the charge of God's elect?' for, 'Whosoever is
born of God doth not commit sin--he cannot sin, for he is born of
God.' I did indeed make a sore stumble; so also did David, and
natheless he was a man after God's own heart. What has man to do
with my fault? _He_ has entered into judgment with me, and I have
gladly borne the hand of the smiter."

"Gladly, father?"

"Ay, David, gladly. For had I not been _his_ son, he would have 'let
me alone,' as he does those joined to their idols; but because he
loved me he chastised me; and I have found that his rod as well as
his staff can comfort in affliction. Some of his bairns deserve and
get the rod of iron. Be good, David, and he will stretch out to you
only his golden scepter."

"And also you have the Intercessor."

"If I had not I would plead my own cause, as Job did. I would rise
up and answer him like a man, for he is a just God. Mercy may have
times and seasons, but justice is the same yesterday, to-day, and
forever. 'Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?'"

"Would you say that, father, if justice sent you to the place of
torment?"

"Ay, would I! 'Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.' But I
am not fearing the place of torment, David. And as for this world,
it is at my feet like a cast-off shoe, and all its gold and gear is
as the wrack of the sea. But you will find a few sovereigns in my
chest, and a letter for your cousin Paul Borson; and the ship and
the house you may do your will with."

"It is your will in all things that I care to do, father. And now,
if you would but let me away for t