itual things employ them much
more frequently than is supposed. Indeed, it is the young who are
most earnestly troubled about the next life; the middle-aged are too
busy with this one, and the aged do not speculate, because they
will soon know.

Thus, daily, little by little, through inlets and broader ways
known only to God and himself, the light grew and grew unto perfect
day, and flooded not only the great hills and promontories of his
soul, but also shone into all its secret caves and gloomy valleys
and lonely places. Then David knew how blind and ignorant he had
been; then he was penetrated with loving amazement, and humbled
to the dust with a sense of the wrong he had done the Father of
his spirit; and he locked himself in his room, and fell down on
his face before his God. But into that awful communion, in which
so much was confessed and so much forgiven, it is not lawful to
inquire.

XI

THE LOWEST HELL

After this the thought of Nanna became an irresistible longing. He
could not be happy until she sat in the sunshine of God's love with
him. He went into the garden and tested his strength, and as soon
as he was in the open air he was smitten with a homesickness not
to be controlled. He wanted the sea; he wanted the great North Sea;
he longed to feel the cradling of its salt waves under him; and
the idea of a schooner reefed down closely, and charging along over
the stormy waters, took possession of him. Then he remembered the
fishermen he used to know--the fishermen who peopled the desolate
places of the Shetland seas.

"I must go home!" he said with a soft, eager passion. "I must go home
to Shetland." And there was in his voice and accent that pride and
tenderness with which one's home should be mentioned in a strange
land.

When he saw John next he told him so, and they began to talk of
his life there. John had never asked him of his past. He knew him
to be a child of God, however far away from his Father, and he had
accepted his spiritual brotherhood with trustfulness. He understood
that it was David's modesty that had made him reticent. But when
David was ready to leave he also felt that John had a right to know
what manner of man he had befriended. So, as they sat together that
night, David began his history.

"I was in the boats at six years old," he said; "for there was always
something I could do. During the night-fishing, unless I went with
father, I was alone; and I had hours of suc