"One year in the schools you founded," wailed another, "lost me my
God."

"Why do you stand at the foot of the hill of the Cross, you
hypocrite?" cried another. "You have, in the name of a false science,
encouraged by your gifts, destroyed the Faith of thousands. You shall
not go by The Road of Pain and Hope, even though you might have to
climb till Judgment. You shall go with us."

Screaming in terror, the old man was dragged away. They could hear his
voice in the distance, as the multitude drove him along The Road
without Ending.

"Alas, I understand--now," sadly said Callovan. He gazed at his
friends with some of the pain of his coming solitude in his eyes.
"Good-bye. Shall we meet again?"

Michael answered: "We shall meet again. Your pain may be very great;
but there is an end. He who sets his foot on this Road has a promise
which makes even pain a blessing."

Callovan was left behind, for Orville and Michael climbed faster than
he.

"Michael," said his master, "I am greatly favored. He was much better
in life than I, yet now he climbs alone."

"You are not favored, sir," answered Michael. "Many pray for you,
because you loved the poor and sheltered and aided them. He has all
that is his, all that belongs to him. You have all that is yours. Do
not forget that we are marching toward the Sun of Justice."

And so they went on, over The Road of Pain and Hope. Orville's feet
were weary and bleeding. His hands and knees were bruised by falls.
The adders stung him and the thorns pierced him. Cold rain chilled him
and warm blasts oppressed him. He was one great pain; but within a
voice that was his own kept saying: "I go to the Cross, I go to the
Cross," and he forgot the suffering. He thought of earth for an
instant; but the thought brought him no longing to return. His breast
was swelling and seemed bursting with a wonderful great Love that made
him content with every tortured step. He even seemed to love the pain;
and he could not stop, nor could he rest for the Flaming Cross that
was drawing him on. He longed for it with a burning and intense
desire. His eyes were wet with the tears of devotion, and his whole
being cried out: "More pain, O Lord! more pain, if only I may sooner
reach the Cross!"

But Michael tried to ease his master's burden.

At last Orville said to him: "How many ages have passed since I died?"

"You have been dead for ten minutes, sir," answered Michael. "The
minutes are as ages in the