iches," replied Michael. "I have no burden, for I had
no riches. Poor was I on earth, and unhampered am I now for the climb
to the Cross. Look yonder." He pointed to a man standing at the fork
of the roads. His burden was weighing him to the earth. "He brought it
all with him, sir," continued Michael; "in life he gave nothing to
God. Now he must carry the burden up to the Cross, or leave it and go
the other road. He sees the Cross, too; but it will take ages for him
to reach it."

The man had thrown down the burden and now started to climb without
it. But unseen hands lifted it back to his shoulders. Men and women
going to the other road beckoned him to throw it away again and come
with them; but he had seen the Cross and, keeping his eyes fixed upon
it, he crawled along with his burden upon him, inch by inch, up the
mountain.

"In life he was good and faithful, but he did not understand that
riches were given him to use for a purpose and that he was not,
himself, the purpose," said Michael. "It was a miracle of grace that
he could see the Cross at all."

"I knew that man in life," said Callovan. "But why is not my burden
heavier than his? I was richer by far."

"You lightened it by more charity than he," said Michael, "but you did
not lighten it sufficiently: Had you given even one-tenth of all that
you had, you would now be even as I am--free of all burden."

"I wish I had known that," said Callovan.

"But, alas! you did know," replied Michael. "We all knew these things.
We are not learning them now. But look up, sir, and see the old man
with the heavy burden above you. You are going to pass him on your
way, yet he has been dead now for a year."

Callovan looked up and gasped: "My father!"

"Yes; your father," said Michael. "You had more charity than he, and
when you did give you gave with better motives; yet he always saw the
Cross more plainly than you. He was filled with Faith."

"Is it possible that I will be able to help him when I get to his
side?" asked Callovan.

"I think," replied Michael, "that you may; but you could have helped
him better in life by prayers and the Great Sacrifice. You probably
may go along with him, when you reach him, for you both see the Cross,
and perhaps you will be allowed to aid him up the mountain."

They had by this time reached the first steps of the climb. Orville
could read the words which marked the mountain road: "THE ROAD OF PAIN
AND HOPE."

"But the Cross dra