oice
soared over him with the rapture of a lark and the shriek of an eagle,
two or three more pair of hands clapped time, the other Suez pastor took
a trochee, and the four preachers filed down from the high pulpit,
singing as they came. Garnet began to pace to and fro in front of it and
to exhort in the midst of the singing.

"Who is on the Lord's side?" he loudly demanded.

"Should my tears forever flow," sang the standing throng.

But no one advanced.

"Should my zeal no respite know," they sang on, and Garnet's "Whosoever
will, let him come," and other calls swept across their chant like the
crash of falling trees across the roar of a torrent.

"Oh, my brother, two men shall be in the field; the one shall be taken
and the other left; which one will you be? Come, my weary sister; come,
my sin-laden brother. O, come unto the marriage! Now is the accepted
time! The clock of God's patience has run down and is standing at Now!
Sing the last verse again, Uncle Jimmie! This night thy soul may be
required of thee! Two women shall be grinding together; the one shall be
taken, the other left. O, my sweet sister, come! be the taken one!--flee
as a bird! The angel is troubling the pool; who will first come to the
waters? O, my unknown, yet beloved brother, whoever you are, don't you
know that whosoever comes first to-night will lead a hundred others and
will win a crown with that many stars? Come, brethren, sisters, we're
losing priceless moments!"

Why does no one move? Because just in the middle of the house, three
seats behind that fair girl whose face has sunk into her hands, sits,
with every eye on them, the wan missionary from China, pleading with
John March.

Parson Tombs saw the chance for a better turn of affairs. "Brethren," he
cried, kneeling as he spoke, "let us pray! And as our prayers ascend if
any sinner feels the dew o' grace fall into his soul, let him come
forward and kneel with the Lord's ministers. Brother Samuel Messenger,
lead us in prayer!"

The missionary prayed. But the footfall for which all waited did not
sound; the young man who knelt beside the supplicant, with temples
clutched in his hands, moved not. While the missionary's amen was yet
unspoken, Parson Tombs, still kneeling, began to ask aloud,

"Will Brother Garnet----"

But Garnet was wiser. "Father Tombs," he cried "the Lord be with you,
lead us in prayer yourself!"

"Amen!" cried the other pastor. He was echoed by a dozen of his