ds to describe
the indescribable."

So they talked, until the frugal Orcadian supper of oatmeal and milk,
and bread and cheese, appeared. Then the night closed and sealed what
the day had done, and there was no more speculation about Ian's
future. The idea of a military life as a school for the youth had
sprung up strong and rapidly, and he was now waiting, almost
impatiently, for it to be translated into action.

A few restful, pleasant days followed. Ragnor was preparing to leave
his business for a week, the Bishop was settling some parish
difficulties, and Ian and Thora were permitted to spend their time as
they desired. They paid one farewell visit to their future home and
found an old woman who had nursed Thora in charge of the place.

"Thou wilt find everything just so, when you two come home together,
my baby," she said. "Not a pin will be out of its place, not a speck
of dust on anything. Eva will always be ready, and please God you may
call her far sooner than you think for."

The Sabbath, the last Sabbath of the old year, was to be their last
day together, and the Bishop desired Ian to make it memorable with
song. Ian was delighted to do so and together they chose for his two
solos, "O for the Wings of a Dove," and the heavenly octaves of "He
Hath Ascended Up on High and Led Captivity Captive." The old
cathedral's great spaces were crowded, the Bishop was grandly in the
spirit, and he easily led his people to that solemn line where life
verges on death and death touches Immortality. It was Christ the
beginning, and the end; Christ the victim on the cross, and Christ the
God of the Ascension! And he sent every one home with the promise of
Immortality in their souls and the light of it on their faces. His
theme had touched largely on the Christ of the Resurrection, and the
mystery and beauty of this Christ was made familiar to them in a way
they had not before considered.

Ragnor was afraid it had perhaps been brought too close to their own
conception of a soul, who was seen on earth after the death of the
body. "You told the events of Christ's forty days on earth after His
crucifixion so simply, Bishop," he said, "and yet with much of the air
that our people tell a ghost story."

"Well then, dear Conall, I was telling them the most sacred ghost
story of the world, and yet it is the most literal reality in history.
If it were only a dream, it would be the most dynamic event in human
destiny."

"You see