sexton into the room. The son of the old
slave-master was sinking rapidly. He was conscious, however, and at
Philip's quiet question concerning his peace with God, a smile passed
over his face and he moved his lips. Philip understood him. A sudden
thought occurred to Philip. He opened the basket, took out the bread and
wine, set them on the small table, and said:

"Disciple of Jesus, would you like to partake of the blessed communion
once more before you see the King in His glory?"

The gleam of satisfaction in the man's eyes told Philip enough. The
sexton said in a low voice: "He belonged to the Southern Episcopal
Church in Virginia." Something in the wistful look of the sexton gave
Philip an inspiration for what followed.

"Brother," he said, turning to the sexton, "what is to hinder your
baptism and partaking of the communion? Yes, this is Christ's Church
wherever His true disciples are."

Then the sexton brought a basin of water; and as he kneeled down by the
side of the bed, Philip baptized him with the words: "I baptize thee,
Henry, my brother, disciple of Jesus, into the name of the Father and of
the Son and of the Holy Ghost! Amen."

"Amen," murmured the man on the bed.

Then Philip, still standing as he was, bowed his head, saying: "Blessed
Lord Jesus, accept these children of Thine, bless this new disciple, and
unite our hearts in love for Thee and Thy kingdom as we remember Thee
now in this service."

He took the bread and said: "'Take, eat. This is my body, broken for
you.' In the name of the Master who said these words, eat, remembering
His love for us."

The dying man could not lift his hand to take the bread from the plate.
Philip gently placed a crumb between his lips. The sexton, still
kneeling, partook, and, bowing his head between his hands, sobbed.
Philip poured out the wine and said: "In the name of the Lord Jesus,
this cup is the new testament in His blood shed for all mankind for the
remission of sins." He carried the cup to the lips of the man and then
gave to the sexton. The smile on the dying man's face died. The gray
shadow of the last enemy was projected into the room from the setting
sun of death's approaching twilight. The son of the old slave-master was
going to meet the mother of the man who was born into the darkness of
slavery, but born again into the light of God. Perhaps, perhaps, he
thought, who knows but the first news he would bring to her would be the
news of that commu