FROM DUSK TO DAWN 
 
 KATHARINE PEARSON WOODS 
 
 AUTHOR OF METZEROTT, SHOEMAKER 
 
 For with Thee is the Fountain of Life." 
 
 NEW YORK 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
 
 1892
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1892, 
 BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. 
 
 ELBCTROTYPED AND PRINTED 
 AT THE APPLETON PRESS, U. S. A.
 
 TO MY FRIEND, 
 
 TO WHOM I OWE THE WORD "VITALISM," 
 AND WITHOUT WHOSE KIND ENCOURAGEMENT AND SYMPATHY 
 
 THIS STORY 
 
 WOULD HARDLY HAVE DARED TO BE WRITTEN, 
 IT IS GRATEFULLY DEDICATED.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 THE COMMUNION OF SAINTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGK 
 
 I. " PROVE THE SPIRITS " 5 
 
 II. FREE WILL AND TRIANGLES 15 
 
 III. BEYOND THE GATE 30 
 
 IV. " CONJURED !" 53 
 
 V. FELIX GOLD . . . , 65 
 
 VI. THE CASTING OUT OF DEVILS . . . . .78 
 
 VII. WHY NEED WE DIE ? 85 
 
 VIII. CRIMSON AND SUNSET GOLD 94 
 
 IX. WHAT is THIS POWER? 106 
 
 BOOK II. 
 THE FORGIVENESS OF SINS. 
 
 I. " CORRECTLY CENTRALIZED " 124 
 
 II. THE POWER OF GOD 139 
 
 III. AT THE DOOR OF THE SECRET 152 
 
 IV. VITALISM 169 
 
 V. THE EDGE OF THE WILDERNESS, 183 
 
 VI. " BETTER MAN, BETTER PRIEST " 201 
 
 VII. "THE WING OF THE DESTROYER" .... 211 
 
 VIII; NOT THAT ! ANYTHING BUT LOVE ! . 226 
 
 2228962
 
 4 CONTENTS. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 THE RESURRECTION OF THE BODY, AND THE LIFE 
 EVERLASTING. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I." ASLEEP IN JESUS" 234 
 
 II. HERETICS AND INFIDELS 252 
 
 III. "As YOU WILL!" 266 
 
 IV. " THE ELEMENTS SHALL MELT WITH FERVENT HEAT " . 274 
 
 V. " THE SEERESS" 294 
 
 VI. SUNRISE . 306
 
 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 BOOK 1. 
 
 THE COMMUNION OF SAINTS. 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 "PROVE THE SPIRITS." 
 
 Cyril Deane, immediately upon his ordina- 
 tion to the diaconate, accepted the post of assistant 
 minister (as the Church Almanac hath it) at the 
 Church of the Transfiguration, Fairtown, everybody 
 was surprised, many were shocked, and not a few said, 
 " I told you so ! " 
 
 For Cyril had been for more than a year definitely 
 pledged to foreign mission work. He was just the man 
 for it young and strong, with no near ties to keep him 
 at home, and with a small income of his own. Better 
 than all these, he was a man of " singular spirituality " 
 and great personal holiness, said his tutors and gov- 
 ernors at the theological seminary ; while in the opin- 
 ion of his fellow-students he was " a good all-around 
 man," and all the more ready to sympathize with other
 
 6 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 people's fads because he had usually one of his own in 
 harness. 
 
 That " because," when one comes to think about it, 
 does great credit to the penetration of him who de- 
 vised it, for in the case of most men given to fads it 
 would be singularly inapplicable. 
 
 Cyril Deane had, however many there might be to 
 whom he was a friend, one only who was able to be a 
 friend to him, and that one was Arthur Lydgate. They 
 had been classmates at college, and had gone through 
 their three years of divinity in preparation for being 
 ordained together, when a short, sharp attack of pneu- 
 monia had served as Arthur's passport to that bourne 
 whence, according to Shakespeare, no traveler returns, 
 though there be those who maintain otherwise. And, 
 in fact, Arthur himself believed, upon excellent au- 
 thority, that he should return to the earth at a cer- 
 tain time, which he called the Last Day, though not 
 in the exact semblance wherein he departed. For, in- 
 deed, that semblance was to him a sore hindrance a 
 covering rather than a revelation of his true nature. 
 He was a tall, gaunt, saturnine personage, dark as an 
 Indian, and as reserved and stoical. Not even with 
 Cyril did those firm, thin lips often unclose in free 
 converse. But there was, as he once said gratefully, 
 little need to confide in Cyril : he knew it all without 
 a word. 
 
 Perhaps because his mortal body thus offended him, 
 Arthur treated it relentlessly, striving to bring it into
 
 "PROVE THE SPIRITS." 7 
 
 subjection to the spirit by fasting and penance ; but 
 this course did by no means decrease the stern, cold 
 reserve which so misrepresented his tender, self -distrust- 
 ful, loving soul. 
 
 His supposed destiny was as different from that 
 which Cyril had mapped out for himself as was this 
 outward disposition from the other's sunny and sym- 
 pathetic nature. His father was the rector of the 
 Church of the Transfiguration already mentioned, and 
 it had long been planned that Arthur should return 
 thither as his father's curate. 
 
 " He is growing very old, you know, Cyril," the 
 young man said one night, or rather morning, when 
 long hours of study and discussion had partially un- 
 sealed the dumb lips. "He needs some one to help 
 him in the mere routine work of the parish, and I can 
 do that at least. Besides, if any one can drive out 
 this dumb devil of mine it is he." 
 
 "You are unjust to yourself, Arthur," Cyril said 
 warmly. " Dumb devil, indeed ! I don't know any one 
 who writes a better sermon than you." 
 
 " Or who fails more miserably when he comes to 
 deliver it ! " 
 
 "That is a matter of practice. Besides, it is a 
 severe ordeal for any man to preach before the fellows 
 here, primed and cocked for criticism as they are. 
 You can't lose yourself in your subject for thinking 
 of how you may catch it afterward." 
 
 Arthur smiled. " Don't you see," he said, " that
 
 8 FftOM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 only proves that one is thinking not of the subject 
 but of one's self? Well, well, never mind; it is an 
 ordeal that is nearly over, at all events. Thank Heaven, 
 one does not preach one's graduating thesis ! " 
 
 " What is your subject ? Do you mind telling me ? " 
 
 " Not now," said Arthur. " What occult influence 
 is there in this hour of the morning, old fellow, that 
 enables one to talk? Is there some subtle magnetism 
 in the air ? The actinism of the approaching sunrise, 
 perhaps ! " 
 
 " Actinic rays are more or less material, I suppose," 
 said Cyril ; " and one's spirit should answer only to 
 the Father of Spirits, Arthur." 
 
 " But if one's spirit be already in bondage to matter, 
 as is mine in this bodily dungeon I inhabit, then 
 magnetism which should break the chains might free 
 the spirit." 
 
 " Isn't it beginning at the wrong end ? " asked Cyril, 
 thoughtfully. " Isn't it the business of the spirit to 
 redeem from bondage both body and soul? I have 
 not thought very deeply about it, Lydgate, but that's 
 how it strikes me." 
 
 " Ah, you may be right ; at all events, I shall study 
 my subject from that point of view also. It is to 
 be (my thesis, you know) on The Communion of Saints." 
 
 " The intercourse of spirit with spirit ? " asked 
 Cyril. 
 
 "Yes. What prevents it, Deane?" 
 
 " Our fallen humanity, I suppose."
 
 "PROVE THE SPIRITS." 9 
 
 " The veil of flesh," said Arthur. 
 
 " That is to say, sin," said Cyril. " Our Lord took 
 our nature upon him and wore the veil of flesh ; but 
 it did not hinder his intercourse with God, with angels, 
 or with the spirits of just men made perfect." 
 
 " That is the meaning of the Transfiguration," 
 returned his friend. " What a fellow you are, Deane ! 
 You say you have never thought deeply on the subject, 
 and yet you attain at a bound the height to which I 
 have struggled step by step." 
 
 "I did not know I had thought of it at all," 
 returned Cyril ; " but, of course, when these things 
 are presented to one's mind there is only one way to 
 look at them." 
 
 " Only one way for you" said his friend ; " but my 
 earthly tabernacle is of grosser material, and my eyes 
 need much purging to see clearly." 
 
 " Well, perhaps I read the thought in your mind," 
 said Cyril, laughing, " and innocently purloined it. 
 A spiritualist once said I was a ' sensitive,' so I may 
 have the faculty of clairvoyance. What is it, Arthur? 
 Have I said anything wrong ? " 
 
 " You ? " returned Arthur. " As if you could ! 
 Only Well, never mind ; I will tell you another time." 
 
 But that other time never came, nor was the thesis 
 ever written. 
 
 To Cyril the death of his friend was a veritable 
 disrupting of mind and spirit. He went through his 
 examinations well, but mechanically ; intellect and will
 
 10 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 responded to the call upon them, but heart and spirit 
 were not in the grave with Arthur, but seeking him, 
 feeling after him silently in all those unknown regions 
 where our loved ones go before, perhaps to aid their 
 Master in preparing a place for us. To himself Cyril 
 seemed numb or half asleep. It was not until the day 
 of his ordination that his spirit returned to him again. 
 
 Until that moment it would have been untrue to 
 say that he had missed his friend acutely ; but on the 
 day to which they had so long looked forward together 
 he awoke from a heavy sleep in a passion of bitter 
 longing for the absent one. They had planned to 
 stand side by side on that day; to kneel together for 
 the laying on of hands ; and, as Cyril entered the 
 church, alone amid the hundreds there, the very air 
 about him ached with loss and emptiness. Then fol- 
 lowed the eucharist, the communion ; and in the 
 midst of it 
 
 It was nothing that we usually connect with the 
 idea of a spirit manifestation in fact, it could by no 
 means be said to be in any sense manifest. It was 
 simply Arthur himself as even Cyril had only on 
 rare occasions been able to recognize him ; Arthur, free 
 from the trammels of the flesh, able to speak ah ! 
 far more able than was his friend to hear ! 
 
 And yet Cyril rose from his knees with no vague 
 notions of the message his friend had brought, and 
 with a very clear and well-defined idea as to what he
 
 "PROVE THE SPIRITS." H 
 
 himself must do. The missionary bishop whom he 
 had promised to accompany to his distant field was 
 present at the ordination, and to him the young man 
 betook himself that same afternoon. 
 
 " I suppose you know what people will say of you ? " 
 said the bishop, with some coldness. 
 
 " They will say I am a coward ; that I have put my 
 hand to the plow and looked back," said Cyril, smiling ; 
 " but if I were to go for fear of man's dispraise I should 
 not be worth having should I ? " 
 
 " Eeally, Mr. Deane, I am at a loss how to answer 
 you," said the bishop. He was a good old man, and 
 would have been better if the difficulty as to ways and 
 means of carrying on his work had less often clipped the 
 wings of his spirit. " I I fear " But there he paused. 
 " We so often deceive our own souls," he ended, rather 
 lamely. 
 
 " I do not blame you for supposing that such is my 
 case," said Cyril calmly ; " it is kind of you not to ac- 
 cuse me of trying to deceive you." 
 
 " Why, I should be very sorry to think that" said the 
 bishop. " No, no ; I am sure that you believe yourself to 
 have received a real communication from your friend. 
 But, my dear son, when you consider the circumstances, 
 and how very natural it was that you should have been 
 thinking of him just then, you will recognize the proba 
 bility of your imagination playing you a trick." 
 
 " I can't argue about it," said the young man, with a 
 pained look,
 
 12 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " But that you should give up a work like ours for 
 mere ordinary Why," said the bishop energetically, 
 " any one could do the work there at the Transfigura- 
 tion ! It is absurd to suppose that a glorified spirit 
 would return to earth for the purpose of withdrawing 
 you from the mission field and sending you there ! " 
 
 " I can not argue about it ; I can only obey," said 
 Cyril. "You must not misunderstand me, however; 
 there was no definite message only the strong sense 
 impressed upon me that I am Arthur's representative ; 
 that I have to stand in his place, and do the work from 
 which he was taken away. Sir, do you believe in the 
 communion of saints ? " 
 
 " Why ah of course ! " said the bishop. 
 
 "Do you consider all intercourse impossible be- 
 tween us who remain and those who have gone be- 
 fore?" 
 
 " Why no ! not impossible, Mr. Deane, but you 
 must admit it it is ah " 
 
 " Very rare," said Cyril. " Don't you think, though, 
 sir, it would be more common if we looked for and be- 
 lieved in it ? " 
 
 " I hope you're not going to turn spiritualist," said 
 the bishop. 
 
 " That is impossible after this morning," said 
 Cyril. " Are we not told," he added, with a sudden in- 
 spiration, " to prove the spirits whether they be of 
 God?" 
 
 " Certainly, certainly," said the bishop.
 
 "PROVE THE SPIRITS." 13 
 
 " But, sir, if I go with you at once I shall not be 
 proving, but despising, the spirit that spoke to me to-day. 
 Now, I am very sure that a spirit which came from God 
 that is, by his permission would not bid me give 
 up the work I have looked forward to so long unless 
 there were something to do in this other field which only 
 I as Arthur's representative can do." 
 
 " Something of greater importance than mission 
 work ? " said the bishop incredulously. 
 
 " By spiritual measurement," said Cyril. " At 
 least, the only way to know is to go there and learn." 
 
 The bishop did not answer for a moment ; Cyril's 
 face was more eloquent than his words, and silenced 
 him. It was a beautiful face, though, not exactly a 
 handsome one ; the clear, pale skin, through which 
 the blood of youth and perfect health glowed at times 
 so readily ; the hair, brown in the shade and golden in 
 the sunshine ; the irregular, mobile features ; the change- 
 ful, brilliant eyes, whose color was so hard to determine 
 all these, combined with his strong, well-knit frame, 
 agile and muscular, but spare and slender as a grey- 
 hound, to produce the impression that upon Cyril 
 Deane's spirit the prison-house of the flesh weighed 
 passing lightly. Truly, if messages might come from 
 the spirit world who than he more likely to receive 
 them ? And even as the thought passed through the 
 bishop's mind Cyril looked up and caught his eye. 
 
 There was a quick glance of comprehension and 
 gratitude ; then the old man sank back in his chair and
 
 14 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 covered his eyes with his hand. There were tears in 
 them when he took it away again and held it out to the 
 young man. 
 
 " My son," he said, " forgive me for doubting you. 
 Go and learn, and when you have learned come and 
 teach me. Perhaps that is part of the work you have 
 to do. Though, mind," he added warningly, " it may be 
 purely the work of your own imagination." 
 
 " If so it will be made known to me," said Cyril 
 quietly. 
 
 " Then I don't give you up ; I only lend you for a 
 time," said the bishop. " Is that the understanding ? " 
 
 " I hope so," said Cyril with a smile.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 FKEE WILL AND TRIANGLES. 
 
 SYMPATHETIC and transparent as we have found him, 
 Cyril did not consider it necessary to take every one 
 he met into his inmost confidence. To cast our pearls 
 before swine who are in search of acorns is as unfair 
 to them as to ourselves. For the swine are wiser than 
 we in their generation truer than we, also ; and a pearl 
 can by no means nourish the life within them, the 
 preservation of which is their special worldly business ; 
 therefore they will nothing of pearls save to trample 
 them under foot. As for the rending which follows, it is 
 well deserved by those who know so little of that 
 higher life which may be fed by the pure, sad love- 
 liness of a perfect pearl the child of disease and the 
 heritor of death as to liken it unto the " blind life " 
 which informs the body of a swine. 
 
 To his bishop Cyril had happily been able to speak 
 freely ; but there were plenty of minor reasons where- 
 with to accompany the offering of himself to Dr. 
 Lydgate, the father of Arthur. 
 
 The Transfiguration was a very poor parish indeed, 
 and the rector's family was large. It had been hard
 
 16 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 for him for many years to live upon the salary, which 
 was all his people were able to pay ; neither they nor 
 he could afford a curate. They loved him. There was 
 no threatening cloud of superannuation in the air, of 
 being "asked to resign," turned out on the world to 
 starve after his years of faithful and loving service ; 
 but just because he had served his Master so well in 
 their midst, the circle was widening, the parish was 
 growing, the harvest was more abundant than one la- 
 borer could reap. 
 
 Arthur had made his own way at college and the 
 seminary. He could have lived as his father's curate on 
 a smaller stipend than any other could have done, 
 because he would have lived at home. And the growth 
 in numbers had been such during the last few years 
 that this very small sum had been provided ; but while 
 rectory and parish alike were still dumb under the 
 shock of their sudden loss, came Cyril Deane's letter, 
 offering, if Dr. Lydgate would have him, to do what he 
 could to fill Arthur's place for a year. 
 
 " By that time," wrote Cyril, " you may have found 
 some one more worthy. At all events, it will spare you 
 the trouble of finding another man just now; and 
 surely you and I, who love Arthur so well, ought to 
 comfort each other now that he has left us. I am 
 sure it is what he would like, and I should like noth- 
 ing else so well as to be to you a little of what he 
 would be if he were still with us." 
 
 But Cyril found, when he followed his letter, that
 
 FREE WILL AND TRIANGLES. 17 
 
 it would be better for him not to make his home at the 
 rectory. There were two rooms in the church tower, 
 one over the other, which he obtained leave to fit up 
 for himself; "they only needed," he said cheerfully, 
 "plaster, paint, and paper to be perfectly habitable." 
 To other people that " only " seemed a very large word ; 
 but when the young deacon pulled off his new straight- 
 cut black coat and went to work on the repairs himself, 
 without asking for aid or contributions, it turned out 
 that the congregation included plasterers, painters, and 
 paper-hangers who were willing and able to help. 
 Then, the Ladies' Aid Society carpeted both floors 
 for him ; and when a modicum of furniture had been 
 set around, and his desk and books sent on from the 
 seminary, it proved to be as pleasant a hermitage 
 as soul of man could desire. As for his meals, he was 
 nominally to get breakfast and supper for himself, upon 
 a little gas stove, and to dine at the house of one of 
 his parishioners, who said he "didn't have no money 
 to spare, but if Mr. Deane liked to come and take pot- 
 luck, there would always be a knife and fork handy." 
 Mr. Deane did like both the pot-luck and the man 
 himself, despite his double negatives ; but his home 
 cooking very often resolved itself into a rap at the 
 study door and " mother's compliments, and she don't 
 believe you can cook as good as her, so she sent you some 
 waffles and coffee for breakfast." Of course, the bearer 
 of " mother's compliments " always stopped to help eat 
 the waffles. Sometimes two trays met at the church
 
 18 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 door ; then there was a party of three at the breakfast, 
 and the fun was immense of washing up afterward and 
 getting the dishes properly sorted. As for other meals, 
 he could have dined out three times a day as far as 
 invitations went, and took tea with his parishioners 
 about five times a week every evening, indeed, except 
 Saturday and Sunday, which he made it a rule to 
 spend alone. 
 
 It would have been for most men a life at once too 
 lonely and too unsettled ; but it suited exactly Cyril's 
 peculiar nature. The large drafts upon his sympathy 
 made by contact with so many differing individualities 
 would have worn him out body and soul, had not the 
 solitude of his hermitage returned the force he had lost ; 
 while, on the other hand, even he might have grown 
 morbid from thus living alone had not the world of 
 duties outside made so many demands upon mind and 
 heart. 
 
 At the rectory he was, to his dismay and self-blame, 
 less at home than in any house in the parish. Dr. 
 Lydgate was a man not of deep learning or profound 
 intellect, but of a warm heart and genial, earnest man- 
 ner. His best sermon was his life ; his next best such 
 as were drawn from his own experience of life. When 
 he felt obliged to preach a doctrinal discourse he was 
 timid and conservative, all the more afraid to vary by 
 one letter the words of the dogma, because he felt 
 dimly that the truth behind it was one infinitely be- 
 yond the power of words to express.
 
 FREE WILL AND TRIANGLES. 19 
 
 Mrs. Lydgate was in appearance so like Arthur 
 that it gave Cyril a sharp pang to find that her cold, 
 reserved manner, so far from melting before his own 
 affectionate regard for his friend's mother, covered an 
 absolute dislike for the man who stood in her son's 
 place, who had lived while her son had died. He came 
 to the conclusion at last many months after the time 
 of which we are now speaking that Mrs. Lydgate's 
 nature tvas, what Arthur's had appeared, cold and un- 
 loving; that her son had inherited his outward man 
 from her, but his inward nature from his father ; and 
 that the struggle between the two the tragedy of his 
 life had been happily ended by what we call death. 
 
 " It was the business of the ' new man ' to conquer 
 that old Adam," said Cyril to himself ; " but whether 
 in this one life he could ever have quite succeeded, I do 
 not know possibly not ; so our Father sent death to 
 help him. He without us shall not be made perfect ; in 
 the home above, the spirit will be purified and made 
 strong, to inform, through and through, the resurrection 
 body which in that day it will take again." 
 
 But this thought belongs rather to the close of our 
 story than to its beginning. 
 
 Upon all of Mrs. Lydgate's children save one, some- 
 thing of the mother's shadow had fallen ; and yet each 
 one of the rector's family was more highly thought of in 
 the parish than " Miss Nina," as she was called, though 
 not one was so well beloved. People said that it was 
 Mrs. Lydgate's anxieties poor thing ! and her hard
 
 20 PROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 life, that had made her so cold and stern ; but that she 
 had a good heart under it all, and could always be de- 
 pended on to do her duty. The same with all the others, 
 who were every one sure to get on in life; but Miss 
 Nina dear child ! Lord only knew what would be- 
 come of her if she were ever left alone to hoe her 
 own row in the world. 
 
 Nina was sixteen ; tall, gawky, and undeveloped 
 both in body and mind, yet not without promise of 
 loveliness in both. She was bright and clever at school, 
 but frightfully inaccurate; ready to believe anything, 
 always out at elbows, never in a bad humor, and as 
 ready to laugh at her own mistakes, blunders, and cre- 
 dulity as any one else. 
 
 Cyril and she were friends at sight ; but Mrs. Lyd- 
 gate's ideas of discipline and propriety were so rigid as 
 to place many barriers to their better acquaintance; 
 therefore the young deacon was surprised one Saturday 
 afternoon, upon answering a knock at his study door, to 
 find Nina standing there, long, smiling, and tattered as 
 usual. 
 
 " I suppose I can come in," she said, suiting the ac- 
 tion to the word, " especially as I have a very important 
 message for you at least, I am sure it is important, be- 
 cause the person said so who gave it to me." 
 
 "Why, of course you may come in," said Cyril, 
 slightly perplexed notwithstanding. '"The person?' 
 That sounds very mysterious indeed, Miss Nina. There 
 is nothing wrong at the rectory, I hope ? "
 
 FREE WILL AND TRIANGLES. 21 
 
 " Oh ! you think so because I have come here," said 
 Nina coolly. " Only a domestic cataclysm or is it cat- 
 apult ? I know it's not catacomb could excuse that, 
 I suppose. But I don't see the least harm in it myself, 
 Mr. Deane." 
 
 " No, nor I," said the young man hastily ; " but why. 
 of course ! only as children should obey their parents, 
 you know, I shall be most happy to walk with you to- 
 ward the rectory, or or anywhere you are going, and 
 then you can give me the message as we go." 
 
 " I should like to stay and have tea with you, as the 
 boys do," said Nina wistfully ; " but, of course, it would 
 be perfectly awful if I did. Mr. Deane, you can't 
 think how stupid it is to be a girl ! " 
 
 Cyril reached down his hat from its peg and opened 
 the door. " Miss Nina," he said, " it is equally stupid 
 to be a man. Do not you suppose I should like to have 
 you, as well as you would like to stay ? Come along." 
 
 Nina obeyed, but as he closed the door she said, " I 
 wish you would explain to me why it is wrong to do 
 what is not wrong in itself ? " 
 
 " Is it our business to avoid wrong or to do right ? " 
 he said. " By the by, this is not the way to the rec- 
 tory. I am quite at your disposal, but may I ask where 
 you are taking me ? " 
 
 " I don't know her name," said Nina, " and I did not 
 see her face, so I should not know her again, except her 
 voice. She's got a most lovely voice." 
 
 " My dear child, what are you talking about? "
 
 22 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " About the person who wants to see you," said Nina. 
 " I don't know the number of the house, and I have 
 forgotten the name of the street ; but I do know how to 
 find it, and I am taking you there." 
 
 " Oh ! and you say it is important ? " 
 
 " A matter of life and death, she said." 
 
 " Then I suppose there can be no harm in letting 
 you show me the door ; but you will have to go home 
 alone, Miss Nina." 
 
 "I could not possibly show you the door, for I 
 haven't seen it myself. It's a gate in an ivy-clad wall 
 the most romantic place ; and it's a long distance away, 
 so you will have time to explain loads of things to me." 
 
 " I see," said Cyril, laughing, " that I must just put 
 you through a catechism, Miss Nina. When did you 
 see this mysterious person ? " 
 
 " Day before yesterday." 
 
 " Dear me ! and a matter of life and death ! Why 
 didn't you" 
 
 " Because she told me not. Come, now, never mind 
 the catechism. I'll tell you the whole story as if it was 
 a history lesson at school, dates and all. I can be ac- 
 curate when I give my mind to it, Mr. Deane." 
 
 " You can be anything good that you try to be, Miss 
 Nina." 
 
 " Humph ! " said the girl ; " they say I believe every- 
 thing I hear, but I'm sure you are mistaken about 
 that, However, it was the day before yesterday, as 
 I tell you, and about half an hour before school
 
 FREE WILL AXD TRIANGLES. 23 
 
 closed, that I was told a lady would like to speak to 
 me. I went down to the principal's room we're not 
 allowed to see strangers, you know, except in her 
 presence and there was this lady, a tiny scrap of a 
 thing, as high as my elbow and as big around as my 
 thumb. She had a thick veil over her face and a black 
 dress on ; but I could feel her eyes shining through it 
 I mean the veil, of course." 
 
 " Well ? " said Cyril. 
 
 " Well, and if you'll believe me, Miss Stephens the 
 principal, you know was fast asleep ! " 
 
 "Asleep?" 
 
 " Sound as a top ; and, you know, the girls say she 
 never does sleep any way, and sees out of the back of her 
 head ! Well, the lady took my hand in hers^her gloves 
 were off Now, ain't I accurate ? " 
 
 " Very much so. Do go on." 
 
 " And she said : ' You are Nina Lydgate. Go, on 
 Saturday afternoon not before to Cyril Deane ; bring 
 him to me at four o'clock. Meanwhile, speak of this 
 to no one ; it is a matter of life and death.' ' But where 
 shall I find you ? ' I said. ' I will wait for you in the 
 picture-gallery on the next street,' she said. ' Come to 
 me there after school, and I will show you where I 
 live.' " 
 
 " My dear child ! Surely you did not go ? " 
 
 " Indeed, I did, Mr. Deane. It's not wrong to go to 
 a picture-gallery." * 
 
 " But Well, go on. What happened ? "
 
 24 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " Nothing at all except that she was there, and that 
 we walked a few squares to this gate in the wall that I 
 told you about, and then she asked me if I knew my 
 way home, and if I could be sure of finding it again, and 
 I said, ' Yes.' So she told me again not to speak of her 
 to any one but you, and I came home." 
 
 " And poor Miss Stephens ? " 
 
 " Not poor at all ! The lady had cured her head- 
 ache." 
 
 "She had?" 
 
 " Yes. She told me, when I had promised to meet 
 her, you know, to go up-stairs to my lessons again ; 
 but just as I got outside the door I heard her speaking 
 to Miss Stephens, and I was so surprised that I stopped. 
 She said, ' Is your headache better ? ' and Miss Stephens 
 said, ' Why, it is entirely gone ! and when you laid your 
 hand on my forehead it was very bad. ' AVho are you 
 that can do such things ? ' And the lady said, ' That 
 is a very simple thing.' Then she looked around, saw 
 me, and shook her head at me ; so I ran off, and that's 
 all I know." 
 
 " Unfortunately," said Cyril, with a sigh, " it isn't 
 all / know. Miss Nina, you have done very wrong, 
 and it seems to be my. business to tell you of it, as 
 there is no one else who can." 
 
 Nina's eyes opened very wide; her lips parted in 
 amazement. " Wrong ! " she said. 
 
 " Ah ! " returned Cyril, " Young America honestly 
 can not understand why, but it is wrong just the same.
 
 FREE WILL AND TRIANGLES. 25 
 
 Miss Nina, did you ever hear of an old-fashioned 
 virtue called obedience ? " 
 
 " Don't I have it for breakfast, dinner, supper, and 
 between meals ? " said the girl. " But I wasn't diso- 
 bedient, Mr. Deane. Nobody ever told me " 
 
 " ' Nobody ever told me ' is not obedience, Miss 
 Nina it is slavery. Why do you suppose the lady in 
 black put your teacher to sleep?" 
 
 " Do you suppose she mesmerized her ? " asked 
 Nina, with a look between fright and eager interest, 
 pressing closer to his side. 
 
 " Well, of course I can't say positively," returned 
 Cyril cautiously, " but, at all events, she took the pre- 
 caution to send you off before waking her. Does not 
 that look as though she knew the authorities would 
 object to the message she had to send by you ? Then 
 by her directions you come to me secretly doing a thing 
 your mother would surely disapprove of if she knew. 
 Dear child, pray, forgive me it is very hard for me 
 to scold you." 
 
 " You're an old fogy ! " said Nina, between laughing 
 and crying. " You think girls ought to sit up in towers 
 and sew on tapestry, and pull veils over their faces if 
 a man comes along." 
 
 " Now you know perfectly well I am quite on the 
 other side," said Cyril, laughing. " You may possibly be 
 President of the United States some day, Miss Nina, 
 and then how will you rule if you have not first 
 learned to obey ? And if women are to take an equal
 
 26 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 share in business and politics, they will need all the 
 more the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit and 
 the grace of true modesty." 
 
 Nina's face flamed. " Modesty ? " she stammered. 
 "0 Mr. Deane " 
 
 " It hurts me worse than you," said Cyril ruefully. 
 "I know you didn't mean any harm, and I am as 
 fond of you as if you were my own little sister I am, 
 really. But, you see, to carry a message that your mother 
 must not hear of to any man is not a nice thing to 
 do; and as you get older, Miss Nina, you will find 
 that most of us need to be kept at a distance. Come, 
 now, will you forgive me ? You were only thoughtless, 
 you know, and " 
 
 " You want me to think," said Nina, still with very 
 red cheeks, and her head erect. 
 
 " "Well, I want you to have principles of your own 
 to go upon, and not to be at the mercy of any strange 
 woman with a veil over her face who asks you to go 
 of an errand." 
 
 " Why must one mind other people ? " asked Nina. 
 " Obedience, indeed ! it is nothing but obey all through 
 the Bible and prayer-book, from baptism clear up to 
 the marriage service. What's the reason of it, Mr. 
 Deane ? I can see the reason of things in chemistry, 
 and why a triangle can have only one right angle 
 
 " Well, why ? " said Cyril. 
 
 " Because if it had two you could not get the sides 
 together, said Nina.
 
 FREE WILL AND TRIANGLES. 27 
 
 " If it had two right angles it would be three sides 
 of a parallelogram, and not a triangle at all," said Cyril. 
 " Did you ever think, Miss Nina, that a triangle is 
 really part of a circle ? " 
 
 " Nonsense ! " 
 
 " Think it over, and you will see for yourself. You 
 cannot make an angle that is not measured by degrees. 
 Now, what are degrees reckoned upon ? " 
 
 " Oh, I see ! " cried Nina ; " upon the circumference 
 of a circle, of course." 
 
 " And every triangle is some part of a section of a 
 circle," he said. " You can not draw a triangle, but what 
 I can draw a circle to include, measure, and name it." 
 
 " / judge by my eye," said Nina. 
 
 " Exactly. I was coming to that. You judge by 
 your eye because it has come down to you as a tradition ; 
 but the difference between right-angled triangles and 
 other kinds was originally measured, and may still be 
 measured, upon the circumference of a circle. Now, 
 Miss Nina, it is just so with obedience. We can choose 
 whom to obey, and how to do it, but obey we must. 
 There is not a single act of our lives that is not measured 
 upon the circumference of the great circle of law." 
 
 "Well, I'm sure I've heard people talk about free 
 will," said Nina rebelliously. 
 
 " Heard of it ? Yes ; it's easier to hear of it than to 
 have it, let me tell you. Miss Nina, why did you obey 
 the lady in black ? " 
 
 " I didn't ! "
 
 28 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " You did as she told you." 
 
 "Because I wanted to. But it's very mean of you to 
 talk about it ; you know I'm sorry, and ashamed too." 
 
 " Dear child, if you had free will, should you let 
 any one make you do a thing you would feel ashamed 
 of afterward ? " 
 
 " But I didn't feel ashamed at the time." 
 
 " And are you two persons, or one ? " asked Cyril. 
 
 " Half a dozen," said Nina. 
 
 " And do you call that Christian unity ? " he asked 
 drolly. " Miss Nina, would not you like to be an indi- 
 vidual a person who can not be divided or at strife 
 with himself ? " 
 
 There was an odd gleam in the girl's eyes as she 
 looked up at him. She understood what he meant 
 better perhaps than some of my readers will do. " What 
 I like about you is that you talk to me as if I were an 
 individual," she said. " Now, at home they think me a 
 child." 
 
 " You can not be an individual without being a child 
 first yes, and last too ; never more a child then when 
 you think yourself a woman, and never more a woman 
 than when you feel yourself a child." 
 
 " Well, I'll think about it. Here is the gate," said 
 Nina. " I'm not coming in ; I don't want to, because 
 mamma would object. There, is that free will ? " 
 
 " You have the idea," he said, laughing. " Good- 
 by, then ; I must see the last of you before I ring." 
 
 " But, Mr. Deane "
 
 FREE WILL AND TRIANGLES. 9 
 
 " Well ? " 
 
 " Ought you to mind her, and come when she sends 
 for you ? " 
 
 " Well, yes. You see, it's a part of my business to 
 go to people who want me ; and, besides, I ought to 
 know who it is that has been bothering my little sister. 
 Eun away now," he said good-humoredly and stood 
 with his finger on the button of the electric bell until 
 she had turned the corner and disappeared ; then he 
 pressed it gently and awaited further developments.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 BEYOND THE GATE. 
 
 THE wall was of rough gray stone with a wide coping ; 
 it was mossy in places, and many vines grew over it in 
 rank, untrained luxuriance. Above it showed the tops 
 of many trees ; the branches of some projecting into 
 the lane were heavy with apples and late September 
 peaches, which ripened in as full security as though 
 they grew upon the mountains of Thibet instead of in 
 the suburbs of a large city. Opposite was a row of 
 small houses swarming unromantically with young 
 Afro-Americans, whom the tinkle of the gate-bell 
 brought, as it seemed, by hundreds to their windows 
 and doors ; some even ventured to lean over the fence, 
 but came no farther. 
 
 Cyril looked around and smiled, then held up a 
 coin, expecting an instantaneous rush; but, to his 
 amazement, there was only a flutter among the dark 
 little figures, and a stretching of the round, bright eyes 
 which seemed already to absorb all of their faces. The 
 young man then made a few steps from the gate and 
 beckoned.
 
 BEYOND THE GATE. 31 
 
 " I say," he called, " I've a nickel for the boy or 
 girl that gets here first." 
 
 No reply, except a simultaneous flashing of white 
 teeth along the line. They nudged each other and 
 whispered, but remained motionless. 
 
 " What are you afraid of ? " said Cyril. " I only 
 want to ask a question. Come, here's a dime instead 
 of a nickel." 
 
 This was effectual. A small maiden of perhaps 
 eight summers, with a clear, chocolate-brown skin, big 
 black eyes, hair plaited in tight little tails and tied with 
 red ribbon, and a frock of three-inch plaid in red and 
 blue, suddenly threw open her own particular gate and 
 came boldly across the road, followed by a chorus of 
 " Come back, Libby ! Nastasia's comin'." 
 
 " Whatcher reckon I keer 'bout Nastasia ? " said 
 Libby boldly. " Nastasia can't do nothin' to me I I 
 ain't afeard of her." 
 
 " That's right," said Cyril ; " big girls like you 
 needn't be afraid of any one, unless, of course, you are 
 doing wrong. Who is Nastasia ? " 
 
 Libby looked up and down, then put up her small, 
 slender, brown hand to shield the disclosure. " My 
 mammy says she's a witch," she whispered, " but teacher 
 at school, she says they ain't no witches. Whatchoo 
 think 'bout it, mister ? Is they any witches ? " 
 
 " Xo, indeed," said Cyril heartily. " And if there 
 were, they could not hurt a good little girl who says her 
 prayers regularly. Is Nastasia a colored woman ? "
 
 32 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 Libby nodded. Her big bright eyes shone with 
 mingled awe and defiance. " Miss Meta, she's a witch, 
 too," she said, "but we all ain't skeered at her. She 
 can't hurt nobody." 
 
 " And who is Miss Meta?" asked Cyril, perceiving 
 that it was useless at present to controvert the witch 
 theory 
 
 " Miss Meta Leonard. She ain't the madam, you 
 know tliafs old Miss Shryock but she lives there. 
 She's a mejum." 
 
 " A me You don't mean a spiritualistic medium ? " 
 
 Libby nodded again. " That's her, up and down," 
 she said. 
 
 A great wave of disgust came over Cyril. So that 
 was all ! To mesmerize the unoffending principal and 
 lead Nina astray from the paths of righteousness 
 
 A sharp click made him turn, to see the gate stand- 
 ing open, and within it a woman, at sight of whom the 
 children incontinently vanished. Even Libby, though 
 she stood her ground, grinned with terror. Cyril caught 
 her small brown hand in his left, while he felt in his 
 pocket for the promised dime. " There, run away," he 
 said, as he slipped the tiny silver piece into her palm 
 and closed the fingers over it ; " run away, Libby, and 
 thank you very much." 
 
 Then, turning to the woman, who had stood as im- 
 movable as a bronze statue, " I believe Miss Leonard 
 sent for me ? " he said. 
 
 Nastasia stepped aside and allowed him to enter the
 
 BE10ND THE GATE. 33 
 
 garden. Had his inward repulsion from doing so been 
 less, he might have turned away ; but the reaction, the 
 inward protest against daring to despise any fellow- 
 creature, was immediate, and as strong as the recoil. 
 Nevertheless, his faculties were all awake and his whole 
 nature on guard as he stepped under the portal. She 
 had said her errand was one of life and death. It re- 
 mained to prove her message a true one. 
 
 A strange thrill, almost a shudder, sweeping over 
 him, made him turn to find Nastasia gazing on him 
 fixedly. She was a woman of unusual height, and strongly 
 muscular. There was not a line of her figure that was 
 beautiful or graceful, and yet she was not awkward ; 
 for in every movement there was visible such strength, 
 vigor, and energy as were in themselves more than 
 either beauty or grace. Her skin was jet-black and 
 lustrous ; her face indescribably hideous ; the teeth 
 were white, square, and ogrish; the eyes very large, 
 black, and burning under lowering brows* Cyril could 
 not meet them without a renewal of that odd thrill ; 
 yet he faced her calmly, but spoke quickly, to break the 
 tension which he felt rather than understood. 
 
 " Can I see Miss Leonard ? Is she ill ? " he asked in 
 his sweet, steady voice. 
 
 Nastasia smiled grimly. "You is de right kind," 
 she said. " Co'se you kin see Miss Meta ; but won't you 
 let ole Nastasia look at your han' first, young marster ? " 
 
 " What for ? " asked Cyril, smiling, and now quite at 
 
 his ease. 
 
 3
 
 34: FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " To see what de future hoi's for you, sir." 
 
 " But I had rather not know," said Cyril. 
 
 " Den I won't tell you, sir ; but lemme look, young 
 marster, for Gawd's sake. I wants to know myse'f. 
 'Tain't off en my young mistis sen's for nobody like she 
 done fer you; an' de chile ain't got nobody to look 
 after her but ole Nastasia." 
 
 Cyril flushed slightly, but he laid his hand on the 
 old woman's shoulder and looked her full in the eyes, 
 which were slightly above the level of his own. 
 
 "Doesn't God take care of her?" he said. There 
 was a half-smile on his lips ; his eyes were full of light ; 
 a strange buoyancy thrilled through his young frame ; 
 his fingers, his arm, tingled, as under his touch the 
 woman's powerful figure seemed as it were to shrink 
 together ; and, without urging her request further, she 
 drew away from his touch, and with drooping head led 
 the way to the house. 
 
 The garden lay, as I have said, on the outskirts of 
 the city, which, once within the gate, might have 
 been miles away. Only a subdued murmur from that 
 busy hive stole in among the fruit-trees, the late roses, 
 and the brilliant autumn flowers wherewith the quiet 
 inclosure overflowed. Between the square, old-fashioned 
 beds ran soft, grassy walks ; here and there the abun- 
 dant green of the flowers, whose time of bloom was past, 
 was illuminated by gorgeous masses of chrysanthemums, 
 phlox, or zinnias; quite at the bottom of the garden, 
 with only a few yards of smooth green turf between it
 
 BEYOND THE GATE. 35 
 
 and the opposite wall, stood a low, rambling, two-story 
 house, all gables, porches, and bay windows, and buried 
 to the eyebrows in clematis and coral honeysuckle. 
 
 There was a strange, soothing charm about it all, 
 under which the nerves yet thrilled strangely. All was 
 utterly still under the declining afternoon sun, save for 
 a faint chirp now and then from a stray bird, perhaps in 
 preparation for its even-song. It was the most silent 
 hour of the day ; only a short time, and tree-toad, frog, 
 bird, and katydid, each in its own way, would make 
 noise enough noise not inharmonious with the nature 
 about them ; but at this hour all was utterly still. 
 
 Nastasia silently led him across the grass to a short 
 flight of steps leading to the porch ; then, pulling open 
 the long, green shutters of a casement window reaching 
 to the floor, she motioned him to enter, and pushed the 
 shutter to behind him. 
 
 Fresh from the afternoon sunshine the young man 
 found himself in almost total darkness. His hand 
 rested upon the glass of the casement, which opened in- 
 ward; under his feet was the glimmer of cool, white 
 matting, and here and there dim shapes of chair or table 
 seemed but a deeper blackness within the misty, float- 
 ing dark due to his dazzled eyes. He stood quite still, 
 waiting for clearer vision. 
 
 There was a rustle, a step, and out of the blackness 
 a white, slender form gliding silently forward to meet 
 him. Just what he had expected Cyril could not have 
 told ; but it was an undoubted relief when a sweet voice
 
 36 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 evidently the voice of a lady said : " This is very kind 
 of you, Mr. Deane. Will you not be seated ? " 
 
 Conventional enough in all conscience ! Cyril drew 
 a short, quick sigh of relief. " Miss Leonard ? " he said, 
 interrogatively, extending his hand with the true clerical 
 instinct. 
 
 The hand he touched was like a child's hand in size ; 
 and yet he could never have mistaken it for any but a 
 woman's, even in absolute darkness. It was soft, firm, 
 and cool, with a strange electric coolness that sent 
 thrills and shocks vibrating to his very brain. With a 
 quick motion he dropped it and pushed back the shutter 
 behind him. *' Pardon me," he said, " I am dazzled by 
 the sun, and quite blind." 
 
 " I do not fear the light," said Meta Leonard. She 
 stood quite still in the flood of radiance and raised her 
 eyes to meet his, with a faint smile. She was not above 
 the medium height, and slenderly made, even shadow- 
 like, yet with nothing of painful thinness about the 
 graceful lines. Her dress was what an expert would 
 have called a cream-white tea-gown of silk and cash- 
 mere. Cyril knew nothing of tea-gowns, but he noted 
 the flow of the graceful folds, the billows of silk above 
 the bosom, the droop of the long, pointed sleeves that 
 fell nearly to the hem of the robe, the delicacy of the 
 rare old lace at neck and wrist. 
 
 Over this creamy whiteness fell a flood of rippling 
 hair of a soft, wood-brown color, which was brushed 
 away from the blue- veined temples, and caught together
 
 BEYOND THE GATE. 37 
 
 just at the neck by a silver crescent set with pearls. 
 The face thus left exposed, save for a few stray wavy 
 locks upon the forehead, was of that type Avhich Dante 
 Kossetti has made immortal ; spiritual rather than intel- 
 lectual ; sensual also, but with a sensuality transfigured 
 and spiritualized. There was the broad, low brow, the 
 slight hollowing of the cheek, the large, sweet, spiritual 
 eyes, the full lips, at once pure and passionate. 
 
 For a moment she stood there very still, with her 
 white hands lightly clasped, and let him look his fill ; 
 then she smiled, half reproachfully, a very sweet, sad 
 smile. 
 
 " You see that I mean no harm," she said. 
 
 Cyril flushed crimson. " I I beg your pardon ; I 
 am keeping you standing," he said. 
 
 With a slight, graceful movement Meta Leonard 
 partly closed the shutter, thus filling the room with a 
 soft, pleasant, greenish light, and motioned her guest to 
 a large, cool, wicker chair, sinking herself into the corner 
 of a cushioned divan, in a pose that no artist could have 
 bettered. And yet it was absolutely unstudied ; there 
 was evidently about Meta Leonard, despite her pictur- 
 esque costume, not the barest shadow of effort or strain- 
 ing after effect. Something of the kind Cyril would 
 have been prepared for, as he now admitted to himself 
 with contrition ; but he could as soon have suspected of 
 affectation a tall, white annunciation lily as this me- 
 dium witch What was she ? 
 
 She sat leaning lightly against the linen-covered
 
 38 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 divan, her white hands folded in her lap, her eyes fixed 
 on his. The shadows had cleared away now from the 
 room. He could see that it was white, cool, and restful ; 
 the pictures hidden under misty veils, the furniture by 
 linen coverings ; in an alcove stood a marble statuette 
 upon a gray pedestal ; he could see neither plainly in the 
 semi-twilight. In the doorways hung portieres of 
 creamy lace. The prevailing whiteness, the hush, the 
 silence of the girl who sat opposite him, looking at him 
 not boldly, rather with exquisite, tender modesty, af- 
 fected the young man strangely. It seemed as though 
 he were upon the brink of what? whether joy or 
 sorrow, he could not tell. It required an effort to speak ; 
 and why should he speak ? Was not the charmed silence 
 better. 
 
 " Let us alone. Time driveth onward fast, 
 And in a little while our lips are dumb. 
 
 Let us alone. What pleasure can we have 
 
 To war with evil I Is there any peace 
 
 In ever climbing up the climbing wave ? 
 
 All things have rest, and ripen toward the grave 
 
 In silence ; ripen, fall, and cease. 
 
 Give us long rest or death, dark death or dreamful ease. 
 
 " How sweet it were, hearing the downward stream, 
 With half-shut eyes ever to seem 
 Falling asleep in a half-dream ! " 
 
 This was the wooing of the day, the hour, and the 
 place to Cyril Deane. It was scarcely a temptation ; 
 his sensitive being felt the charm, but the silence was
 
 BEYOND THE GATE. 39 
 
 not prolonged beyond the moment wlien he felt that an 
 effort to speak was necessary. 
 
 " You sent for me, Miss Leonard. Can I be of serv- 
 ice to you ? " 
 
 The girl started, and passed her hand over her 
 eyes. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," she said half dreamily. " I 
 think you magnetized me. No, no ! not consciously," 
 anticipating his protest ; " but I am very sensitive to 
 the influence of every new personality, and you are 
 very I can hardly call you magnetic, either, yet I know 
 no other name for it." 
 
 " I think I should not willingly magnetize any one," 
 he said, smiling. 
 
 " No ? But that is a pity, for your influence would be 
 helpful ; " she said simply. " Do you ever feel it, this 
 influence of others? They come here sometimes be- 
 lieving me an inspired prophetess, believing in my mis- 
 sion ; and then, oh, how I believe in myself ! what won- 
 ders I can do ! But there are others who suspect me, 
 who think me an impostor, and with them I can do 
 nothing at all." 
 
 " Not even be the impostor they think you ? " 
 
 " How do you know ? Yes, I can do that at least 
 in small matters requiring little preparation. I can not 
 make ready a fraud beforehand when I am not under 
 their influence." 
 
 " Isn't it a pity," asked Cyril gravely, " to be at every 
 one's mercy like that ? "
 
 40 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 Her beautiful eyes opened widely ; she had evidently 
 never before looked at it quite in that light. " Fritz scolds 
 me sometimes," she said, " when a seance is unsuccess- 
 ful ; but then he admits that if I were less sensitive we 
 should not get such results as we sometimes do." 
 
 " And who is Fritz ? " he asked gently. 
 
 " Fritz Hermann, my father's cousin, and my dear 
 teacher. It was he who first discovered my powers, and 
 who has developed and trained them." 
 
 " And you are a a medium ? " 
 
 " I am a clairvoyant," she said. " I do not work 
 with tables and slates, like some ; my powers are subject- 
 ive, except that I have had wonderful success in ma- 
 terialization. You do not believe do not approve 
 What is it ? " interrupting herself suddenly. 
 
 " I do not understand," he said. 
 
 " Ah ! nor I, nor Fritz, nor any one. Only we hope 
 to understand some day." 
 
 " And you have accomplished these materializations 
 they tell us of ? You have seen the spirits in the flesh 
 again?" 
 
 " Not I," she said. "/ have never seen them. Oh, 
 there are some I would give my life to see again ! " Her 
 lip quivered like a grieved child's. She buried her face 
 in her hands. 
 
 He sat looking at her, tenderly, compassionately. 
 Why she had sent for him was still dark, but he saw 
 that she was in trouble ; and it seemed, in some hidden 
 way, a trouble that he ought to understand.
 
 BEYOND THE GATE. 41 
 
 " You will see them again," he said at last. 
 
 The girl dropped her hands and lifted her eyes to 
 his, full of tears, though the lips smiled and the cheeks 
 glowed with a sudden flush. " It depends upon you all 
 upon you," she said. 
 
 " Yes ? " he said encouragingly. " Tell me. But I 
 think it depends upon a greater than I." 
 
 She paused, and looked at him with parted lips, as 
 one half bewildered. " That is true," she said " greater, 
 at least, in some ways. But it does not all depend on 
 the mesmerist, you know. Fritz says that the strongest 
 will sometimes submits most readily and makes the best 
 subject." 
 
 " Is it ever a strong will afterward ? " asked Cyril. 
 
 " Not toward the magnetizer ; and if it submit more 
 than once it finds resistance almost impossible. But 
 does that matter ? It is for a good end." 
 
 " I fear it matters very much," said Cyril ; " as much 
 as any other slavery." 
 
 Her eyes fell. " Slavery ? " she said slowly. " It is 
 hardly slavery, I think, for I will it also." 
 
 " You ? And this your cousin, is he ? this Mr. Her- 
 mann mesmerizes you ? " 
 
 " You see," she said, " it is no harm, and there is 
 such good to be gained, such knowledge to be won ! " 
 
 '' Tell me," he said, " can you magnetize yourself ? " 
 
 " No," she answered ; " some can not I. I can quiet 
 pain sometimes, but I have very little mesmeric power ; 
 none over myself. I am quite helpless alone."
 
 42 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 A throb of pity choked his speech for a moment. 
 " When you lie in the magnetic sleep," he said, " can 
 you waken unless he wills it ? " 
 
 "How should I?" 
 
 " And can you resist his will when he bids you 
 sleep ? Can you easily disobey his orders at any time ? " 
 
 " But he is very good to me," she said ; " so good 
 and gentle. You do not -understand." 
 
 " And how can I help you ? " he said. 
 
 " It is a long story," she said, " for I must go back 
 to the time when I first knew Arthur Lydgate." 
 
 Cyril did not start nor change color ; not so much 
 as an eyelash quivered. On the contrary, his whole be- 
 ing was possessed by an absolute quietude, and, as at 
 the moment of his entering the room, he waited for his 
 vision to grow clear. Only he knew now wherefore he 
 had come to Fairtown. Indeed, there was a thrill in 
 the girl's voice as she spoke his friend's name that 
 would have betrayed her secret to the most careless. 
 
 " My father was a physician," she went on, " of half 
 German blood ; he was skillful, too, in his way, wealthy, 
 and well known. We went to Dr. L} 7 dgate's church, 
 and Arthur and I grew to know each other very well. 
 When I was sixteen, and he three years older, we were 
 engaged. Of course they laughed at us, but no one 
 opposed it. Then my father died, and we came here to 
 this house to live, and Fritz came from Germany. Ar- 
 thur was away at college ; and I do not know why, but 
 Fritz would not let me tell him of our studies."
 
 BEYOND THE GATE. 43 
 
 " He knew of them at last," said Cyril sternly. 
 " And did he approve, Miss Leonard ? " 
 
 " But it was blind foolish ! " she cried. " He said 
 they were devils, these spirits oh, poor spirits ! who long 
 so to communicate with those they have left behind ! " 
 
 " And so ? " said Cyril gently. She had tried to de- 
 ceive him, to conceal that point ; but he was not afraid 
 now. The worst was told. 
 
 " And so he gave me up," she said piteously. " Fritz 
 was so good to me he is always kind but he thought 
 it well for me ; I could give my whole heart to science, 
 he said. Then Arthur died ; and listen, Mr. Deane 
 I knew nothing even of his illness, but in my sleep 
 not trance, a sound, natural sleep he stood beside me 
 and called my name. Then he said ' Cyril Deane.' I 
 had not heard of you for years, remember that ! I did 
 not know that your college friendship had lasted, that 
 you were with him at the seminary, or that you closed 
 his eyes." 
 
 Cyril did not reply He had known for some mo- 
 ments that Arthur had sent him to this girl. 
 
 " After that," she said, " I was ill for a long, long 
 time, and my power left me ; indeed, it has not yet fully 
 returned. But a week ago, at a seance held in this 
 house by some others Fritz among them a communi- 
 cation was received from Arthur, and again he spoke of 
 you." 
 
 She had spoken brokenly ; her breath came in gasps. 
 " They long so to come back to us ! " she said.
 
 44 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " Not Arthur ! " said Cyril. 
 
 "Yes," she answered, "Arthur. But I do not 
 know why he could not communicate with us fully 
 except through you, who, he says, have rare powers 
 powers that you do not dream you possess " 
 
 " And that is why you sent for me ? " he said sadly 
 and steadily. " Of life and death, indeed ! " 
 
 " Then you will ! I shall see him I shall touch 
 his hand ! " She had sprung to her feet ; her delicate 
 face glowed. " No one knows how I love him ! " she 
 said brokenly. " And though I gave him up I could 
 not help that if I forgot him partly while he lived, 
 even Fritz can not rob me of him now." 
 
 She checked herself, faltered " Fritz is always kind 
 and good," she said. " You it is you who will bring 
 him back to me ! " 
 
 He sat for a moment with one hand over his eyes ; 
 for how to find words to answer this poor, wounded lamb 
 as he tenderly called her to himself he could not 
 tell. There was a battle to fight, too ; a strong, fierce 
 impulse to seek out this man, this Fritz Hermann, 
 and But Cyril checked himself ; even righteous 
 indignation would not do Arthur's work and rescue 
 Meta. 
 
 Oh, to find words that might heal and not hurt 
 her! 
 
 Then suddenly they came to him : 
 
 " But if Arthur were right he was apt to be right, 
 you know if these spirits were devils ; would you
 
 BEYOND THE GATE. 45 
 
 grieve him so wherever he is as to let one of them 
 use his name, speak with his voice, and wear his like- 
 ness ? " 
 
 There was a stir in the next room, and through the 
 lace portieres came a short, stout man, unmistakably 
 German, with a dark, eager, smooth-shaved face, large 
 black, brilliant eyes, wavy, abundant jet-black hair, high 
 color, and large, white, firm-looking hands. 
 
 Cyril rose. It was well he had conquered his indig- 
 nation, for this was Fritz Hermann. Meta did not stir ; 
 only she lifted her eyes to his dark face. " I thought 
 you were there, Fritz ; I felt you," she said. 
 
 The man looked annoyed. " Of course I was there," 
 he said ; " it is where I belong. Moreover, this is my 
 business as well as yours. Will you come into my study, 
 Mr. Deane? And, Meta, go to your room and sleep. 
 That is best for you." 
 
 He spoke in a deep, thoroughly German voice, not 
 unmusical. His enunciation was quick and clear, yet 
 with a marked accent. 
 
 For a moment Cyril hesitated, and in that moment 
 Meta spoke. 
 
 " Must I go, Fritz ? I do not wish to sleep. Let 
 me hear." 
 
 " Hear ? Nonsense ! " he said quickly ; " I will tell 
 you all you wish to know." 
 
 The girl looked at him for yet a moment, very wist- 
 fully, then she turned, held out her hand, and raised 
 her eyes to Cyril's.
 
 46 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " Good-by, Mr. Deane," she said paused flushed 
 " but, oh ! I do not want to go away ! " she cried. 
 
 Cyril had scarcely been conscious how intensely he 
 had wished that she should assert herself, until that 
 moment not to have her stay unless such were her own 
 free pleasure, but that she should in some way deliver 
 her soul out of the snare of this fowler. And yet he 
 did not feel he had not had time to think he did not, 
 I say, feel that Hermann's influence was consciously a 
 bad one. It was not a bad face. Eager, reckless of con- 
 sequences in the attainment of his object, the man 
 might be, but not wicked or cruel ; and though there 
 was vexation on his brow, it was not unkindly that he 
 spoke to her. 
 
 " I do not know what has come to you, Meta, he 
 said. "Look here in my face." 
 
 It had all passed in a moment ; the girl's hand was 
 still in Cyril's and her eyes raised to his. And they 
 were very soft at that moment, those brilliant, changeful 
 eyes ; the amber rays that sometimes swept across them 
 were all gone, and they were a tender blue, soft, but 
 very strong and steady. His fingers closed more tightly 
 over hers with an impulse of help and protection. 
 
 " Why should you go unless you wish it ? " he asked 
 in his sweet, gentle voice, that was yet so clear, so strong 
 and manly. " If it is your hour for sleeping, I will 
 come again to explain to you why I can not do as you 
 wish." 
 
 " There is no reason except that Fritz wills it so," she
 
 BEYOND THE GATE. 47 
 
 said. " But, oh ! you will consent you can not be so 
 cruel ! I must see him again." 
 
 " There," said Hermann, " you see for yourself, she 
 will fret herself ill if she stays." 
 
 Cyril turned upon him quickly. " Because she is 
 struggling against your will ! that is what tears her to 
 pieces. Once for all, I will be no party to it. If she 
 goes I go also." 
 
 The black eyes opened wide and blazed upon him. 
 " You will be no party to it ? " he sneered. " But it is 
 your will that makes her resist me, as you know 
 very well " He checked himself, and bit his lip. 
 
 " I am on the side of her will, not of my own," said 
 Cyril steadily. 
 
 " Her will ? " The man laughed. 
 
 Cpril looked him steadily, straight in the eyes. 
 " You would scorn to rob her of one poor penny," he 
 said, " yet you do not scruple to take away her freedom 
 to make her a slave ! " 
 
 The man shrugged his shoulders uneasily. " Non- 
 sense ! " he said. "Freedom, indeed ! What is it worth 
 beside such spiritual development as I have aided her to 
 gain ? Is it not so, Meta ? " 
 
 " It is it is," she said eagerly. " You can not fancy 
 the glories that have been revealed to me. Mr. 
 Deane, if you would but try ! They say the spirits, I 
 mean that your powers are so wonderful, even while 
 untrained and undeveloped, that through you they 
 could tell us "
 
 4:8 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 "You see," broke in Hermann, "it is like this: 
 spirits are not alike, no more than other people ; there 
 are good and bad among them as among us. Then, 
 some of them manifest in one way, some in another ; 
 some rap on tables, turn over furniture, play tricks, 
 even injure one sometimes. I do not know if it is be- 
 cause they are mischievous, or if they can not always 
 control their own power." 
 
 " Very likely," said Cyril ; " it is the way with that 
 sort of thing ; but perhaps they are mischievous also. 
 At all events, I prefer " 
 
 " I know, I know," said Hermann hastily. " You pre- 
 fer to have nothing to do with them, therefore you will 
 have nothing to do with them. We attract to ourselves 
 only those spirits like ourselves. Now, your friend, this 
 Arthur, he was very pure, very upright, and good. Is it 
 not so?" 
 
 Cyril grew a shade paler and bit his lip, as he bowed 
 mutely. It was sacrilege to hear Arthur's name so men- 
 tioned ; it was torture to him ; but there was a subtle 
 danger in the air which he felt without understanding, 
 and his only safety lay in absolute, thorough self-control. 
 It is only when Conscience slackens her hold upon the 
 will that the loosened reins can be seized by another hand. 
 
 The quick black eyes read him through instantly. 
 "Ah, he was a little god to you, this Arthur! You 
 think it profanation that he should speak through a 
 slate and a splinter of pencil ; but be calm, my friend ; 
 it is not so. We use not these. It is a friend of his
 
 BEYOND THE GATE. 49 
 
 who brings this message. Arthur but wishes to com- 
 municate with us, with the Meta, here ; and he can do 
 so only through you. He has messages for his father, 
 too. Ah, it is much that Arthur can tell us of the 
 spirit world the world of the pure spirits. You also, 
 my friend you wish to learn the certainty of what you 
 believe. No?" 
 
 " Do you think it can be learned by means of a slate 
 and a bit of pencil, or even through a materialized 
 human spirit ? " asked Cyril, smiling. 
 
 " But why not ? Gold and ivory are no more than 
 mere matter ; and a good spirit he can not lie. These 
 things are all very equal when viewed from the fourth 
 dimension, my friend." 
 
 " I do not doubt it, Mr. Hermann." 
 
 " Then what do you doubt ? for it is rock-like, this 
 will of yours. I can not sway it this way, that way, as 
 the will of other men." He paused a moment, then 
 broke out afresh. "-4Z-so, I can move you not even by 
 com-plee-ment ! So ! what do you doubt ? " 
 
 Cyril smiled. "My own powers of argument," he 
 said. He had long ago put Meta into a great chair, 
 upon the back of which one hand rested as he stood be- 
 side her, with an indefinite but very strong feeling of 
 being on guard. 
 
 Now, glancing down at her, he saw that her eyes were 
 upon him with the soft, trusting look of a little child ; 
 her cheeks were flushed ever so faintly, and her lips 
 parted in a tender little smile.
 
 50 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 Such a look on such a face! For a moment the 
 young man's brain whirled giddily ; the next he had 
 pulled himself together to find Fritz Hermann watching 
 him steadily with a look which Cyril found it impossible 
 to analyze. Was there in it any of the exultation of 
 one who has found an enemy's weak point ? or the per- 
 plexity of him who knows not how best to use the new 
 weapon Fate has put into his hand ? Cyril could not tell. 
 
 " Why, as for argument that ! " said Hermann, wav- 
 ing it away with his strong white hands. " It is experi- 
 ment, demonstration, we offer you. But perhaps you 
 fear such tests. No ? You do not willingly incur the 
 danger of proving your faith untrue. Not so ? " 
 
 "Understand clearly, Mr. Hermann," said Cyril, 
 quietly, "that such considerations influence me not a 
 hair's breadth. My faith can not possibly be tested by 
 any such experiments ; its truth or falsehood for I am 
 liable to error, more so, perhaps, than other men can 
 be proved or disproved by no demonstrations you can 
 offer me." 
 
 " So ? Then you accept blindly" 
 
 " By no means." 
 
 Hermann shrugged his shoulders, this time scorn- 
 fully. " Perhaps," he said, " you have still some method 
 of making what you believe credible to yourself ? " 
 
 " As it is incredible to you ? " 
 
 The man laughed. "Why parts of it," he said. 
 " Me ? Yes, it is spiritualism that is my refuge from 
 materialism when I doubt the Bible revelation ; not the
 
 BEYOND THE GATE. 51 
 
 Bible itself, see you that is, not all of it. There is very 
 good spiritualism in the Bible." 
 
 "And do all spiritualists think alike about these 
 matters ? " 
 
 " Do all Christians ? But there are very good Chris- 
 tians, indeed, among spiritualists Christians who be- 
 lieve all, as you do." 
 
 " I fear you are wrong," said Cyril. 
 
 " So ? But ask the Meta. She is a Christian, and 
 Christian spirits speak through her." 
 
 Cyril glanced down, gently, gravely, and met the 
 sweet eyes once more. 
 
 " It is true," she said. " I go to church, too, some- 
 times." 
 
 " Not often ? " he asked, smiling. 
 
 " No, not often," she answered a little reluctantly. 
 " You see, I have gone beyond them so very far. I be- 
 lieve more than they far more, not less." 
 
 " Not less ? nothing less ? " he asked, looking down 
 at her steadily. 
 
 " Ah, perhaps. There is the resurrection of the dead, 
 you know : it is not worth while to believe in that. One 
 can not ; our belief is so very far more glorious." 
 
 He stood there very quietly, still looking down upon 
 her. All the amber light flowed back into his eyes, but 
 his lips were grave. 
 
 " You believe in the materialization of spirits," he 
 said, "but not in the resurrection of the dead," and 
 put out his hand for hers. " Good-by."
 
 52 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 She did not answer or again urge that wild petition 
 upon him ; but her eyes grew sad. " You will come 
 again ? " she asked wistfully. 
 
 " Arthur loves you," said Cyril. " I will surely come 
 again." 
 
 He passed Fritz Hermann with a bow, and left her 
 in that dark keeping. His heart was very tender over 
 her, and there was a mist before his eyes as he made his 
 way through the grassy paths. Near the gate stood old 
 Nastasia, tall, gr.im, and hideous, but with a very human 
 light in her eyes as she turned them upon him. He 
 held out his hand to her impulsively. " Take care of 
 her," he said. 
 
 " 'Deed an' 'deedy, marster, but I does try," she said 
 earnestly. " It's dat debbil of a Fritz Hermann dat won't 
 let nobody come near her sca'cely less'n she's asleep. 
 But he don't meddle wid me much. I'm a voodoo, mars- 
 ter, I is, an' so was my mammy, /ain't 'feard o' dem no- 
 'count sperits o' deirn, no way. I can't witch him, dough, 
 no more'n he kin me ; so we let's each oder alone." 
 
 "If Oh, he will not harm her he means no 
 harm ! " said Cyril ; " and I shall soon come again. But 
 if you need me you know where to find me ? " 
 
 " Ef I don't, dere's dem dat does," said the woman 
 significantly. " Ole Nastasia kin fin' am/body, marster 
 anybody, 'live or daid." 
 
 Then the gate closed, and the strange house in the 
 fair garden lay behind him, like a vision in the night of 
 another world than ours.
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 " CONJURED ! " 
 
 IN the shadowy room that Cyril had left, Fritz 
 Hermann looked down upon the girl before him with 
 an odd expression compounded of perplexity, vexation, 
 and fondness. 
 
 "What has come to you, Meta?" he said. "Do I 
 ever influence you save for your own good ? Yet how, 
 this day, you have set me at defiance ! " 
 
 "Indeed, dear Fritz, I did not mean it," she said 
 timidly. 
 
 " No, no," he said slowly ; *' therefore am I the more 
 perplexed. Well, it is your loss. If you had said the 
 words I was willing you to say beyond there," waving 
 his hand toward his " study " as he called it, " then had 
 you gained what you wish. As it is, you have lost him, 
 girl you have lost more than you dream." 
 
 " I have lost Arthur," she said with a quivering lip. 
 
 " You ? " he said not unkindly, yet with some con- 
 tempt. " You ? If that were all ! Moreover, if Arthur 
 wishes to communicate with you, he can find means to 
 do so. But science truth has lost Cyril Deane." 
 
 " You think so well of his spiritual powers ? "
 
 54 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " I have seen him often in these few months," said 
 the man musingly ; " I have watched him in the street 
 and in his church. I have seen dogs cease fighting, chil- 
 dren put by their quarrels, at his word. I have heard 
 him preach ; I have seen him magnetize a whole con- 
 gregation into believing his creed unconsciously mag- 
 netize them even as he magnetized you this day, child 
 Meta." 
 
 " Bid those people lose their hold on what he taught 
 them when the sermon was over ? " asked Meta. 
 
 " Possibly probably. How know I ? " 
 
 " Because," she answered thoughtfully, " I think 
 this power of his is not quite magnetism, Fritz. I can 
 not explain, but so it is." 
 
 " Not quite magnetism ! " he said, laughing. " How 
 very scientific, child Meta ! But it is magnetism of a 
 high order and rare purity." 
 
 "There is a difference," she insisted. "You, for 
 example, there in the study were telling me what to say ; 
 but I told him things he did not know." 
 
 " Ay, but in the way that he wished to hear 
 them ! " 
 
 " It was the way of truth," she replied. 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders. " Truth had gained by 
 a little falsehood on this occasion," he said. " But, once 
 again, what has come to you, Meta, that you so dispute 
 with me?" 
 
 " Are you angry, Fritz ? " 
 
 " Why, no," he said, smiling, and patting her pale
 
 " CONJURED ! " 55 
 
 cheek with his hand ; " no, only you must not oppose me 
 too far." 
 
 He looked down at her smilingly for a minute as 
 she sat, so frail, white, and shadow-like, in the great 
 arm-chair where Cyril had placed her. He remembered 
 his first coming to Fairtown ; how full of life she had 
 been then, of abounding health and animal vitality. 
 But there was no remorse at his heart for the change he 
 had wrought ; it was simply the grosser parts of her 
 nature that had been cleared away, that had vanished 
 in the development of the spiritual. She was not ill ; 
 it was true that she had been so, but the cause of that 
 was the death of her lover not his, Fritz Hermann's, 
 teaching and training. From the time of his coming 
 to the house, how gentle, how docile she had been ! how 
 eager to learn ! The affection for Arthur, which it 
 had been necessary to overcome, could have been, he 
 thought, but a mere girlish fancy, which he had of late 
 revived in her mind for the sake of obtaining through 
 it an influence over Cyril Deane. The dream of which 
 she had told Cyril, that he could not account for ; he 
 had thought her altogether the creature of his will 
 sleeping, waking, at his command, living his life, think- 
 ing his thoughts. Yet he could look any one in the face, 
 and say with truth that he had used his power only for 
 her good as he understood it. She spoke his thoughts 
 when he willed to put them into her mind, but they were 
 not evil thoughts ; she did his bidding, but he had never 
 bidden her to do aught that to him was evil.
 
 56 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 The long, slow growth of this influence had but 
 made it more powerful over her whole nature ; but it 
 came this afternoon to Fritz Hermann almost as a reve- 
 lation that he did not know what that nature was. 
 He knew Meta Leonard as he had made her ; but what 
 she would have become had he never crossed her path, 
 that, it occurred to him, for the first time, to wonder. 
 
 And the wonder suddenly touched her with a strange, 
 new charm. " Child Meta," he had called her, but 
 she was a child to him no longer. " You must not op- 
 pose me too far," he said, smiling, but there was a 
 distinct pleasure in her power to oppose him at all. 
 
 " I should be ungrateful to oppose you, Fritz," she 
 said quietly. " I did not do so consciously this afternoon ; 
 it was rather as if I lost sight of you at times " 
 
 " It was his influence that superseded mine," he 
 said, frowning slightly. 
 
 " Perhaps," she said thoughtfully. " But, if so, it 
 was very unlike your influence as unlike it as a fetter 
 that drags down is to a rope that draws ashore the 
 wrecked sailor." 
 
 "So?" he said, too hurt and amazed to be indig- 
 nant. 
 
 " I did not mean to wound you," she went on, quick- 
 ly understanding him. " You do not mean it so, and, 
 after all, it was a bad comparison. For the rope draws, 
 pulls, it might even hurt, you know ; but his influence 
 could never hurt. I did not feel it as an influence at all. 
 It was rather that I had freedom, power, to be myself ;
 
 "CONJURED!" 57 
 
 to speak my own thoughts, Fritz not yours or his. I so 
 seldom speak my own thoughts ! " 
 
 " A medium what need has a medium for thoughts 
 of her own?" he said. "This will never do, Meta; 
 your personality must be naught but a mere transpar- 
 ency, through which the spirits can manifest. You have 
 been too absorbed in yourself of late, and this is why 
 you have lost your power ; but I permitted it, hoping 
 through your love for this Arthur to attract to us 
 Arthur's friend. This must be set right." 
 
 "You will force me to forget him?" she cried, 
 springing to her feet. Her hands were clasped entreat- 
 ingly, her beautiful eyes were full of tears ; but the man 
 looked coolly at his watch before he replied. 
 
 " I must go," he said. " See, I am already late for my 
 appointment. Go you and eat, then go to your room 
 and sleep soundly. Eemember, and obey me." 
 
 He hesitated, then touched her soft cheek with his 
 dark lips. " Thou art a good child," he said in his na- 
 tive language, " only thou must always obey." 
 
 Then he went away, after a swift, relentless fashion 
 that he had, without pausing or looking back to see if 
 his orders were obeyed. It did not even come into his 
 mind that Meta would be able unsupported to set him 
 at defiance ; therefore he did not deliberately concen- 
 trate his will upon hers. And, after all, what did it 
 matter ? She was his, his bond-slave ; it would be easy 
 enough to re-establish his influence more strongly than 
 ever ; but perhaps it had better be done without alarm-
 
 58 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 ing her. Silly child, to be so easily impressible! It 
 would have been better, after all, had he seen this Cyril 
 alone, and, taking him unaware, subjected his will to that 
 of Fritz Hermann ! 
 
 It was already growing dark outside ; Meta felt no 
 inclination to leave the cool twilight, and this new 
 power over her own thoughts, even for the happiest 
 dreams. She heard the gate clang faintly in the distance. 
 Fritz was gone. She flung the shutters wide apart, and 
 stood thirstily drinking in the cool evening air. 
 
 " My lamb ! " 
 
 Old Nastasia stood beside her, looking down with 
 anxious affection upon the beautiful, fragile form. " My 
 lamb, did you git yo' wish from de young marster wid de 
 angel face ? Tell ole mammy." 
 
 Meta smiled dreamily. "Has he an angel face?" 
 she said. No, mammy, he will not promise ; he says it 
 would not be Arthur whom I should see, but a devil in 
 his likeness." 
 
 "An' dat's de Lawd's trufe," said the old woman 
 emphatically. 
 
 Meta opened her eyes very wide. 
 
 " You, too ! " she said. 
 
 "Yes, me too, honey. I'se a voodoo leastways I 
 useter be and I knows. It's de debbil sho', dat's at de 
 bottom of all dishyer foolishness. Ole Nastasia nebber 
 did hab no use for no sich doin's." 
 
 Meta smiled. "You do not quite understand us, 
 mammy," she said. "It isn't magic, you know; and
 
 "CONJURED!" 59 
 
 some of the things the spirits tell us about the other 
 world show that they are not devils. Would a devil 
 advise one to go to church, to the holy communion, do 
 you think ? " 
 
 " Humph ! " said the old woman ; " mighty strong 
 chu'ch ef de debbil can't git in dar too ! Don't talk to 
 ?ne, chile. What I knows, I knows. Ain't I seen you 
 a-dwindlin' like, twell f om de stronges' and bes' an' 
 peartes' baby I ebber nussed " Her voice failed for a 
 moment. " Is dat ar de wuk o' de good Lawd ? " she 
 asked indignantly. 
 
 " It is the work of the spirits, of course," said Meta 
 absently. " Such a life as mine wears upon one phys- 
 ically, and that is why Fritz likes me to sleep so much. 
 I ought to be asleep now, Mammy Nastasia." 
 
 " Did he tell you to sleep ? '"' 
 
 " To eat first, and then sleep." 
 
 " Well, 'tain't supper-time yit, an' I don't keer much 
 about you eatin' 'tween meals. I ain't nebber let you do 
 it when you was little, an' you been doin' mighty little 
 eatin' here lately, anyhow. Is you seen ole Miss an' 
 Marse Hugh to-day ? " 
 
 Meta shook her head, then suddenly a shiver ran 
 over her ; she turned and laid her arms around the old 
 woman's neck. " Mammy," she whispered, " he makes 
 me forget them, even Hugh, my little Hugh, whom his 
 dying mother put into my arms. He has made me for- 
 get Arthur ; he says he will make me forget him 
 again ! "
 
 60 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " Ain't I done tole you de debbil was in it ? " asked 
 the old woman. " Don't talk to me, honey ; I knows him, 
 I does, f'om de tip o' his horns plumb down to de een' 
 o' his tail." 
 
 She held the drooping form in her strong arms ; she 
 bent her grim and hideous face above the pale brow 
 veiled in its floating hair. "Listen to me, chile," 
 she said. " You know I was a voodoo once, an' so was 
 my mammy before me. Debbils ! she could raise all de 
 debbils in wat's 'is name ! An' she learned ine- all she 
 knowed not to say dat a voodoo can be learned, 'case 
 it's got to be borned in 'em. But yit dey is ways o' 
 makin' 'intments an' powders an' sich, and a 'quaint- 
 ance wid yarbs, some on 'em good an' some bad, an' dem 
 kin be learned. So my mammy she died, an' de niggas 
 was skeered as bad o' me as dey useter be o' her. Right 
 on dishyer place dey useter come arter me ; and out in 
 de woods, on top o' dat hill where dey jess begun to buiP 
 dat new chu'ch, was whar I useter conjure for 'em at 
 de new moon. "Well ! 'bout dat time me an' Stephen 
 got married. You 'member Stephen, don't you, honey ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Meta. She had dropped into her chair 
 at the beginning of the story, and Nastasia sat crouched 
 together, in the very attitude of her savage ancestors, on 
 the ground at her feet. " Yes, I remember Stephen ; 
 he used to carry me on his back and sing such sweet 
 hymns ; and he played, oh, so sweetly, on the violin ! " 
 
 " Cat's so," said Nastasia, " dat's de Lawd's trufe, 
 honey. Dey was goin' to tu'n him outen de chu'ch 'count
 
 "CONJURED!" 61 
 
 o' dat fiddle, on'y dey darsent, when it come to de p'int, 
 'case Stephen was de mighties' exhorter an' had de pow'- 
 f ulles' gif ' in pra'r ob any o' de lot. He convarted me, 
 Stephen did, one camp-meetin' time ; an' arter dat we 
 done got married. But don't you know, Miss Meta, dem 
 niggas said I mus' 'a' conjured him, or he nebber would 
 'a' married no sich a Toby-beaten gal ? Toby ! I could 'a' 
 showed Toby to 'em ef I'd 'a' wanted to ; I'd 'a' learned 
 'em who Toby was ef 't hadn't 'a' been for Stephen ; but 
 he sez : ' Nebber you min' 'em, Nastasia ; de Lawd knows, 
 and dat's enough.' ' : 
 
 " And did you never do any conjuring after that ? " 
 asked Meta. " Not that it was really the devil that you 
 saw, Nastasia ; I dare say it was a spirit manifestation, 
 but the spirit of a savage. A wild heathen African, per- 
 haps a cannibal, would not be nice to have dealings 
 with. You were quite right to give it all up." 
 
 " Well, it do beat all how smart de chillen is growin' 
 dese days ! " said Nastasia sarcastically. " 'Twan't de 
 debbil, hey ? Den how come I seed him, Miss Meta ? 
 Come, now, you tell me dat ! Yes, honey, I did do some 
 con j 'in' arter dat. I done backslid, Miss Meta, chile. 
 Dem niggas sassed me, an' I got riled, an' went off inter 
 de woods to raise ole well, nebber min' ; I ain't gwine 
 say his name in dis house ; too many debbils roun' here, 
 anyhow ! " 
 
 " You raised whoever it was against some one, to 
 harm him ? " said Meta. " Our spirits are not like that, 
 mammy. What happened ? "
 
 62 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " De nigga died ! " said Nastasia solemnly. " Yes, my 
 Lawd died, Miss Meta, dat she did! Don't tell me 
 'tain't de debbil ! I knows him ! " 
 
 " But what did Stephen say ? " 
 
 "Stephen wep' ober me, an' exhorted me pow'ful, 
 Miss Meta, an' den he rassled wid de Lawd in pra'r 
 twell 'twould 'a' broke a heart o' stone ; but it nebber 
 teched Nastasia, I was dat col' an' keerless like. Den 
 my baby come, Miss Meta, my onlies' one I ebber had ; 
 an' de werry day he up an' died, your poor mamma, 
 my Miss Marg'ret, dat I was foster-sister to, she up an' 
 died too ; an' ole miss took an' sont me to nuss you. An' 
 f 'om dat day to dis, honey, I ain't wanted to conjure no- 
 body, bress de Lawd ! He done took away my heart o' 
 stone, an' gimme a heart o' flesh praise his name ! So 
 dat's how Nastasia knows all 'bout it, honey ; an' when 
 I see folks a-peekin' an' a-pinin' I knows de debbil's in 
 it somehow. Ef it hadn't 'a' been dat way, why did de 
 Marster say, ' Dy sins be firgibben dee,' 'fore he healed 
 dat imp'tent man ? Sho ! don't talk to Nastasia ! An' 
 dishyer keepin' you away f'om ole Miss, yer nachel- 
 bawn great-gran'ma, an' little Marse Hugh, de sufferin' 
 chile o' de Lawd ! why, all dat is tarred wid de same 
 bresh, Miss Meta ; it's cut right offen de same piece, dat 
 ar is. Ain't ole Nastasia had sper'ence 'nough to know ? 
 Could I raise ole Wat's-his-name w'en I loved Stephen, 
 or w'en I hel' my baby or you in my arms ? No, chile ! 
 'twas w'en my heart was col' to Stephen, 'case I fought 
 dat oder gal done tuk a farncy to'm an' was gwine tole
 
 " CONJURED ! " 63 
 
 'im away f om me ! An' ef you was to think much 'bout 
 ole Miss an' Marse Hugh, you couldn't raise no sperits 
 needer. You hear ole Nastasia ! " 
 
 Meta smiled faintly. The old woman's words tallied 
 a little oddly with her own experience, but she did not 
 think they proved anything, for all that. She had lived 
 a strange, lonely life for the last five years. Fritz had 
 often sighed over the materialistic character of her sur- 
 roundings, and would have removed her from them at 
 once, as he often said, but for the necessity of keeping 
 terms with the grandmother, to whom the house and 
 grounds belonged, as well as the money that supported 
 them all. And Mrs. Shryock was rather a difficult per- 
 son to keep terms with. She was willing enough that 
 Meta should give seances at exorbitant prices, but she 
 wanted to handle the proceeds herself. Of course, 
 Meta could have more than earned her own living any- 
 where ; but the man revolted from so using her powers 
 any further than was necessary to placate Mrs. Shry- 
 ock. He was as really in search of truth as any man 
 can be who has made up his mind just where and how 
 it is to be found, and the quaint old house in its fra- 
 grant garden was an ideal abode for a truth-seeker. Mrs. 
 Shryock could not live long, he thought, and then it 
 would be easy enough to dispose of Hugh ; meanwhile 
 he kept Meta in a half -dreamy state, 
 
 " And lost to life and use, to name and fame." 
 
 She was not as deep in his counsels as we ; she only 
 knew that he thought it better for the preservation of
 
 64: FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 her powers to live apart from the household. They 
 were well taken care of, and yet a sudden, strange pang 
 shot through her heart as she remembered how she had 
 neglected little Hugh, the last precious charge of his 
 dying mother, her father's young wife. She sprang to 
 her feet. 
 
 "Nastasia," she cried, "where is he? I want my 
 Hugh, my baby ! " 
 
 " Bress de Lawd ! " said old Nastasia.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 FELIX GOLD. 
 
 CYRIL DEANE, as the quaint old gate clanged behind 
 him and he bent his steps along the lane, felt strangely 
 tired. " It was rather a strain on one's nerves," he 
 would have said had he been asked the cause of this 
 fatigue ; it did not occur to him that " power had gone 
 out of him." Indeed, Cyril Deane too rarely thought 
 of himself at all to puzzle over a shade more or less of 
 one feeling or another. 
 
 He walked homeward slowly and thoughtfully. How 
 cool his little sitting-room appeared, with its gray walls, 
 nearly hidden by books, its deep-arched window, the 
 cocoa matting upon the floor, and huge mahogany and 
 hair-cloth sofa in one corner, upon which he threw him- 
 self with a sigh of relief and instantly fell asleep ! 
 
 When he waked, refreshed and strong again, it was 
 quite dark. He sprang up, struck a light, and looking 
 at his watch found that it was nearly eight o'clock. 
 
 " Dear me ! what a lazy fellow I am ! " thought Cyril. 
 There were certain arrangements to be made in the 
 church for the Sunday services, he remembered; and 
 he caught up a long taper that stood in the corner, lit
 
 66 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 it, and opened a narrow door that cut off one corner of 
 his tiny room and led into the church. 
 
 The Church of the Transfiguration had once stood 
 in a fashionable part of the town and been filled by a 
 wealthy congregation; but that tide had ebbed away, 
 and for many years it had been chronically upon the 
 verge of being sold, and perpetually being rescued by 
 public-spirited individualism. Of late, Dr. Lydgate had 
 solved the vexed question of " reaching the masses," or 
 perhaps the masses had reached him ; at all events they 
 had come together, and the church overflowed, Sunday 
 after Sunday, and often upon week-day occasions, with 
 hard-handed, earnest-eyed men, to whom it was a reve- 
 lation to find that the problems that vexed, puzzled, and 
 exasperated their daily lives had all been solved cent- 
 uries before by the Reformer of Nazareth. 
 
 The young deacon's rooms were in the north tower ; 
 the vestry was at the east, or, more correctly, the south- 
 east corner ; he had therefore the whole length of the 
 building to traverse, and as he did so the light of the 
 taper played fitfully here and there, reflecting itself in 
 stained glass or carved brass- work, but, like a half-truth, 
 far too weak to fill the place with radiance and glory. 
 Near the chancel a tablet, new and shining, had been 
 placed upon the wall by his classmates at the seminary 
 in memory of Arthur Lydgate. As the light of the 
 taper caught and sparkled upon its smooth surface, 
 carved lettering, and massive bordering, Cyril paused a 
 moment in sheer amaze, for it was no thought of his
 
 FELIX GOLD. 67 
 
 friend that had flashed . into his mind, but the name of 
 Felix Gold. 
 
 Felix Gold ! 
 
 He went on into the vestry, wondering. Where had 
 he heard the name, or was it a name at all ? Perhaps 
 merely the brightness of the brass and the thought of 
 the happy dead had suggested the collocation. 
 
 In a few moments he came back into the church, 
 set the taper in a corner, and knelt before the altar. 
 Now that he had slept, and so refreshed his body, his 
 mind, heart, soul call it what you like was alive to 
 the strangeness of all that had occurred. He thrilled 
 and tingled with the wonder of it. Had he indeed been 
 sent hither by a presence from the better land, to aid 
 and protect this girl this strange, sad, beautiful girl, 
 Arthur's love ? Then he called her, to himself, Arthur's 
 widow, and prayed for her most fervently. 
 
 That was all he could do ; though when he thought 
 of her in the power of Fritz Hermann he could have 
 defied the world in her behalf, and on the instant. 
 Poor, friendless child ! 
 
 But no ! she was not friendless, and He who for her 
 sake had kept back Cyril from the work to which he 
 had been pledged could guard her now as then. It did 
 not seem to Cyril a small thing that he should so have 
 been hindered for the sake of a girl ; it was " for her 
 sake," he said to himself, and in the phrase there lay 
 much meaning. 
 
 It was scarcely prayer that now filled his soul, but a
 
 68 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 % 
 
 sweet, dreamy rapture, almost ecstasy. He bowed his 
 head ; his eyes were closed ; there was a smile upon his 
 lips, though his cheek was pale. The church was all his 
 own ; there was no danger of interruption before morn- 
 ing; yet he did not consciously dread interruption; 
 only this holy reverie was very sweet. 
 
 Then suddenly there came into his mind, as though 
 it had been shouted in his ear, the name of Nina Lyd- 
 gate. Poor, untidy, awkward Nina ! Had he promised 
 to let her know of the mission to which she had guided 
 him? He could not remember; but at least it was 
 what he ought to do and to-night ? He would see if it 
 were too late ; and he suddenly remembered that he had 
 had no supper. 
 
 He picked up his taper and returned to his rooms, 
 altogether unconscious how for some moments his feet 
 had stood at the parting of two ways, and how Nina's 
 idea had saved him ere yet he had gone astray. 
 
 But the question of his going to her that night was 
 soon conclusively settled by a sharp rap at his outer 
 door. Cyril put aside his supper of bread and milk, and 
 hastened to unclose the heavy portal. 
 
 " Bennet Lane ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 " How are you ? " said the Eev. Bennet Lane, enter- 
 ing quietly enough to all appearance, though a person 
 of such overpowering personality might always just as 
 well have blown a trumpet before him. Yet, when one 
 came to think about it, he was rather a small man, at 
 least not above the medium size ; as upright as a dart,
 
 FELIX GOLD. 69 
 
 and with something of a military bearing ; with large, 
 luminous dark eyes, and a wonderful smile. 
 
 " Where on earth Why, I did not know you were 
 in town ! " said Cyril, shaking his friend's hand vehe- 
 mently. Bennet Lane had been in his last year at the 
 seminary when Cyril entered it ; but their Sunday work 
 had thrown them together both belonging to the ex- 
 treme High-Church wing and they had become fast 
 friends. 
 
 " In town ? No more I was until about fifteen minutes 
 ago," said Mr. Lane. " Didn't you get my telegram ? " 
 
 "How on earth should any one ever get a tele- 
 gram ? " asked Cyril resignedly. He knew already that 
 his friend had recently accepted a curacy in Fairtown 
 at the most "advanced" church in the place, with a 
 clergy-house and large staff of curates ; but he had now 
 to be informed that the illness of the rector of a neigh- 
 boring parish had compelled him to ask assistance in his 
 Sunday services of Bennet's rector-to-be, who, finding 
 his present curates all imperatively engaged, had written 
 to ask whether the curate to come had anything for that 
 Sunday that could not be broken or deferred. 
 
 " And as I only meant to take a Sunday off before 
 beginning my new work, here I am," said Mr. Lane. 
 " I should have written, but only had the rector's letter 
 this morning." 
 
 " Well, the letter would have reached me on Mon- 
 day, whereas I shall never have the telegram/' said 
 Cyril.
 
 70 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 "As rampant as ever against private monopolies, I 
 see," said his friend. " How is socialism ? " 
 
 " Very unsocial. I have not offered you a mouth- 
 ful of food. What will you have? There's quite a 
 good eating-house close by." 
 
 " What have you got for yourself ? " asked his friend. 
 "Bread and milk? Just the thing; nothing I like 
 better." 
 
 "Provided there's more of it," said Cyril, catch- 
 ing his hat up in one hand and the milk-jug in the 
 other. 
 
 " You've quite a snug little nest of it here," said 
 Bennet, when his host returned, not unprovided with 
 other dainties. " I've been looking around, and really 
 I envy you. Everything your own way, and so quiet 
 and uninterrupted." 
 
 Cyril shrugged his shoulders. " It's better than a 
 boarding-house," he said ; " but I'm a gregarious animal, 
 Lane, I take kindly to being petted and done for. 
 Still, one can always get the good of one's circumstances 
 if one knows how, and it is an excellent preparation for 
 missionary life, I suppose." 
 
 Mr. Lane looked at him sharply. " Oh ! " he said, 
 " then you have not given up that idea entirely ? " 
 
 " Not at all," said Cyril. 
 
 For some reason his friend did not question him 
 further on that point. " Dr. Lydgate is a pretty Broad 
 Churchman, isn't he ? " he asked, with seeming irrele- 
 vance.
 
 FELIX GOL1). 71 
 
 " Oh, I suppose he is," said Cyril ; " at least, people 
 say so. I've never seen anything objectionable." 
 
 " Ah ! that's good. If you were to find yourself, 
 now, obliged to take part in union services, or offend 
 your rector you see, that's what impressed me about 
 your coming here. But I suppose he knows where to 
 draw the line." 
 
 " We were speaking of that the other day," said 
 Cyril. " He says very frankly that he is too old and 
 broken to stand the row that would be made if he were 
 to invite ministers of other denominations into his pul- 
 pit; but he preaches in theirs as often as he gets a 
 chance." 
 
 " There's no harm at all in that, taken by itself," said 
 Mr. Lane, " for he goes clothed with the teaching au- 
 thority of the Church, as her official representative ; but, 
 of course, if he sits on a platform with a Methodist on 
 one side and a Presbyterian on the other, he tacitly ad- 
 mits their authority as equal to his own ; and that is an 
 altogether different part of speech." 
 
 " I suppose so," said Cyril. He played a little nerv- 
 ously with the crumbs on his plate for a minute, then 
 he broke out as if it were impossible to be silent. 
 " But, my dear fellow, lots of those Presbyterian and 
 Methodist parsons are far and away better men than 
 I am." 
 
 " Very likely," said his friend, coolly. " I'm not 
 talking about the men themselves, but their authority 
 as teachers."
 
 72 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " Then you don't recognize authority as a moral 
 quality?" 
 
 " I don't know what you are driving at." 
 
 " Why, the better men they are, the better they can 
 teach, don't it seem ? " 
 
 " Ordinary morals, perhaps ; but that certainly does 
 not apply to the doctrines of the Church." 
 
 " And yet Christ says, ' Whoso willeth to do my will, 
 he shall know of the doctrine.' " 
 
 " Deane," said his friend, solemnly, " this is worse 
 than I feared. Do you mean that you doubt the valid- 
 ity of your own orders, the significance of the historic 
 episcopate one of the four points laid down by the 
 Lambeth pastoral as ' a basis of unity ' ? " 
 
 " Now, in the first place," said Cyril, " is the Lam- 
 beth pastoral binding upon anybody's conscience ? " 
 
 "Well, no; certainly not that!" said Mr. Lane; 
 " but it is worthy of attention " 
 
 " Wherever we happen to agree with it," said Cyril. 
 "In the second place, Lane, I'm only a deacon, you 
 know ; and the validity of my orders Why, I'm a mere 
 layman, as you know." 
 
 " That is simply a quibble," said his friend, " and this 
 is not a subject for jesting. Deane, for God's sake, don't 
 go astray on this point ! I tell you it is a critical period 
 with us. The Church is on trial for her life ; and her 
 very existence depends on the fidelity of her children." 
 
 " To tell you the truth, Lane," said Cyril, " the point 
 you have raised is not one upon which I have thought
 
 FELIX GOLD. 73 
 
 very deeply. As you know, I was born and brought up 
 in the Church, and I have never gone much outside for 
 friends or interests ; but it does seem to me that, if 
 the existence of the Church is at stake, something of 
 a different nature from documentary evidence will be 
 necessary to save it." 
 
 " Documentary evidence ? " 
 
 " ' Genealogies and strifes,' " said Cyril. " If we are 
 the legitimate descendants of the apostles, don't you 
 believe that blood will tell ? Need we go around with 
 our ancestry written on our foreheads ? " 
 
 " Deane, this is worse than I supposed. I feared 
 you were tainted, but did not dream how deep it had 
 gone ! " 
 
 " My dear fellow " 
 
 " One moment, Deane. I assure you that if you 
 could realize the pain you give me you would speak less 
 lightly. This point the authority of the sacred minis- 
 try is at this very moment that upon which the forces 
 of hell are directing their attacks " 
 
 " But are you sure they are the forces of hell, dear 
 boy ? No, no ; don't be offended, and don't think me a 
 deliberate reprobate. I assur* you that, as I said before, 
 I have scarcely thought five minutes on this subject in 
 my whole life." 
 
 " Then how could you take orders ? " 
 
 " Because it seemed the only way to the work I had 
 planned for myself. Oh, no doubt it was wrong of me, 
 but, you see, I was interested in more practical matters
 
 74: FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 socialism, for instance, and the Christian Social 
 Union. And when I say I haven't thought about this 
 question, that doesn't mean I haven't read about it; 
 for, of course, one has to get it up, like everything else. 
 But I don't believe I wanted to think about it very 
 much ; it seemed to me a question to which I could not 
 say Yes, and did not want to say No. For you see, 
 Lane, that apostolic succession, in the sense in which 
 we use it, and socialism, are " 
 
 " Deane, Deane ! " 
 
 " Alike a matter of genealogies," said Cyril. " But 
 this is all your own fault, you know ; you forced the 
 matter upon me for decision." 
 
 "And you decide to be a traitor to your mother 
 Church ? " 
 
 " I don't know what I shall decide yet" said Cyril, 
 coolly ; " but you have aroused me to the fact that some 
 decision must be come to. Thank you for it, very much 
 indeed. It may have been cowardly to put it off so long, 
 but I only meant to be loyal." 
 
 " Perhaps this may assist you," said Bennet Lane, 
 taking a small handbill from his pocket. " This was 
 given me in the depot, probably because of my coat. 
 However, if it were meant as an insult, it missed its 
 mark ; but it will serve to prove to you into what vaga- 
 ries a man may wander when once the guiding hand of 
 the Church is removed." 
 
 And this is what Cyril read :
 
 FELIX GOLD. 75 
 
 ATTENTION ! 
 
 To ROMAN CATHOLICS, GREEK CATHOLICS, AND ALL OTHER 
 DENOMINATIONS. 
 
 THE NIXETEENTII-CENTURY MISSION 
 
 is now open for the purpose of advocating the Fatherhood 
 of God and the brotherhood of man. 
 
 We put out this circular because we know most all 
 denominations prohibit their members to attend any other 
 but theirs. 
 
 You are cordially invited to attend, and to join heart 
 and hands in the great work of purifying and healing 
 soul and body. 
 
 The so-called sectarian will fade away like snow be- 
 fore the bright sun of spring-time. 
 
 Meeting every night. Service of song, 7.30. Regular 
 meeting, 8 P. M. From 9 to 9.30 will be devoted to healing. 
 Your brother in love, 
 
 FELIX GOLD. 
 
 " Do you think you'll go ? " asked Cyril, mischiev- 
 ously. 
 
 " Thank you, I won't take any in mine if I know it. 
 Such English ! " 
 
 " Well, if English were any more a divine institution 
 than everything else, ' I won't take any in mine ' would 
 be a venial sin at the least. Felix Gold ! I must have 
 seen the name somewhere. The ' mission,' I see, is in 
 my own neighborhood." 
 
 "Very probably. You see what all this leads to, 
 Deane." 
 
 " Why, if he does what he claims, it leads to blue 
 ruin for the apothecaries," said Cyril. " But as to ' va-
 
 76 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 garies ' and 'guiding hand of the Church,' don't you 
 know there is a Koman priest who they say does just 
 this very thing ? " 
 
 " The Church of Rome has always claimed to work 
 miracles," said Mr. Lane. " That is altogether different 
 from this fellow professing to heal." 
 
 " When he can not even write English ! " said Cyril, 
 " which is very much easier, as every one knows. I 
 say, why have we lost the gift of miracles, Lane ? " 
 
 " Want of faith and loyalty, Deane. Perhaps dis- 
 union is at the root of it." 
 
 " Perhaps," said Cyril, thoughtfully. " Disunion ! 
 This fellow seems to have got hold of that idea. He 
 says ' we can all join hands in the great work of puri- 
 fying and healing soul and body.' ' 
 
 " Join hands ! Perhaps it is a spiritualistic seance" 
 said Bennet Lane, as he rose to go. 
 
 Cyril urged him to stay, offering the hospitality of 
 his own bed, and himself to sleep on the sofa. But 
 Mr. Lane shook his head quietly but firmly. " Best not, 
 Deane," he said. " I seem only to do you harm, and 
 excite a spirit of faction and dispute. I shall go on 
 to the clergy-house." 
 
 " Indeed, I'm very sorry if I seem wrong-headed," 
 said Cyril. " I don't mean to be ; but don't you know 
 how one goes around with a lot of answers in one's 
 mind, and never realizes that they are answers until 
 some one else or something else produces a question to 
 fit one of them ? "
 
 FELIX GOLD. 77 
 
 " No, I don't know," said Mr. Lane. 
 
 "Well, I do," said Cyril; "and it's like finding a 
 key to open a door : one never knows where it may 
 lead to." 
 
 " That one does not," said Mr. Lane. 
 
 " But God does," said Cyril, smiling. He walked a 
 little way with his friend, and did his best to be cheer- 
 ful under the very trying circumstances. When he 
 returned, he stood for a moment contemplating the 
 empty plate and glass, and the pushed-back chair, 
 whose very attitude toward the table was expressive of 
 righteous but sorrowful indignation. 
 
 " Now, I wonder what business it was of his, any- 
 way?" said Cyril. He laughed a little as he cleared 
 away the dishes into his corner cupboard, where his old 
 woman would find them next morning when she came 
 to make his bed and tidy up generally. " Oh, well," 
 he said, " heresy is everybody's business, I suppose. At 
 least, everybody thinks so." 
 
 He took up the handbill and re-read it carefully. 
 " I wonder who he is ? " he said. " I don't think there's 
 any spiritualism in it, though. It is strange his name 
 should come to me twice, so close together. I must 
 have seen it on the church, of course. It may be only 
 a coincidence ; but, after all, what is a coincidence ? 
 Is a coincidence a miracle, or is a miracle only a 
 coincidence ? " And he laughed aloud at his own folly 
 as he sat down to read.
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 THE CASTING OUT OF DEVILS. 
 
 THE big church was full to overflowing when Cyril 
 Deane surveyed it from the pulpit on the Sunday morn- 
 ing following the occurrences we have described. It was 
 of brick, painted in the old red and blue temple colors ; 
 some of the windows were richly stained, others, from 
 which the memorials of the dead had accompanied the 
 living to a more fashionable quarter, were filled with 
 plain glass, and glorious only with God's sunlight. 
 
 Before him was a sea of faces ; behind him the deep, 
 wide chancel with its double choir of girls and boys ; 
 "young men and maidens, old men and children," 
 praising the name of the Lord. He knew that Nina 
 sat among the girls. He had heard that sweet, high 
 soprano of hers very clearly all through the service ; but 
 he was not thinking especially of Nina, though he 
 meant to speak to her presently. 
 
 He arranged his manuscript and looked over the 
 congregation. In a pew near the front a face caught 
 his eye a pale, pure face, under a gray straw bon- 
 net trimmed with ribbon of the same color. Nestling 
 close to her soft robe of gray, like an autumn mist, sat
 
 THE CASTING OUT OF DEVILS. 79 
 
 a wizened little figure, with great black eyes of eager 
 curiosity, and not much face besides. In actual life 
 he was eight years old ; in figure, five ; and in face he 
 might have been a hundred. 
 
 Then, of a sudden, Cyril's carefully prepared sermon 
 grew to him utterly vapid and inadequate: for it 
 was not at that moment merely a sermon that had to 
 be preached. The gaze of those wild, uncanny eyes 
 of the boy ; the dark, sweet, tender, uplifted eyes 
 that Arthur had loved, shot through him a vivid 
 realization that it was the bread of life he had been 
 set to break to this people, and that he had meant to 
 offer them a stone. 
 
 A strange thrill swept him from head to foot ; his 
 eyes burned ; there was a tingling in his brain ; his 
 very hand shook as he drew his Bible nearer and pushed 
 aside the neatly written manuscript. 
 
 " And he was casting out a devil which was dumb. 
 And it came to pass, when the devil was gone out, the 
 dumb man spake, and the multitudes marveled." 
 
 " They always marveled," said Cyril, conversational- 
 ly ; " not that we should wonder at their being surprised, 
 you know, at such a thing as a devil being cast out, 
 but what follows shows that their astonishment was 
 not exactly of the right sort. For some of them said 
 that it was by the help of Beelzebub that he had cast 
 out one of Beelzebub's subjects ; and others wanted him 
 to go on and do something else still more surprising, 
 just as if he had been a sleight-of-hand magician !
 
 80 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 Now, there are lots of good people who will tell us that 
 it was not really a devil that our Lord cast out ; that 
 the man was insane, or epileptic, or something of that 
 sort, and that the story is very much exaggerated any- 
 how, and perhaps the man never was healed at all ! 
 Then there are others who would not go as far as that, 
 for the world ; but, if you drive them into a corner, 
 they can not quite pin their faith to the story as it 
 stands, and they talk about the influence of the imagi- 
 nation, and other natural causes. 
 
 " I, for my part, am perfectly willing to believe 
 that the man was obsessed by a bad spirit you 
 need not call it a devil, if you don't like ; it may 
 have been the spirit of a wicked man, who had loved 
 his own body so, that he liked to get hold of some one 
 else's body when his had gone to corruption. Now, 
 then, Christ cast him out ; this account doesn't say 
 how ; neither does it tell us how he got in, but we 
 can imagine. There are lots of ways for a dumb devil to 
 get into one : there is sullenness, for instance nothing 
 worth considering at first ; we just don't want to talk, 
 and there's no one worth talking to. Ah, but that's 
 not the point, whether we want to talk : it is whether 
 we ought to talk ; whether other people have not a right 
 to our kind and pleasant words. Perhaps we fancy that, 
 in our sullenness, we are following our own will ; but in 
 our heart of hearts we really know better ; at most our 
 will is divided, or we should be sullen all the time. But 
 the will that is at the mercy of our mood, or a chance
 
 THE CASTING OUT OF DEVILS. 81 
 
 remark, or the weather, is not a free will ; and because 
 it is not free, it is at the mercy of any foe who comes 
 against it. Slaves, as we all know, are easily conquered. 
 
 " But it may be said that sullenness, sensitiveness, 
 or whatever we like to call this dumb devil, comes 
 often from nervous ill-health. "Well, of course, it often 
 does ; and very often our sensitive fancies have some- 
 thing to build on. Our friends get impatient with us, 
 scornful, sarcastic ; we may give them cause ; but if they 
 could see that evil spirit the soul of a hanged 
 murderer, perhaps trying to take possession of us it 
 may be they would fight on our side instead of his. 
 
 " Sometimes this dumbness becomes actual loss of 
 voice. I have known cases where such a physical con- 
 dition was accompanied by symptoms which might well 
 have indicated obsession by an evil spirit. And I 
 have heard of a loss of voice from nervousness being 
 cured by hypnotism. The patient was thrown into 
 a mesmeric sleep, and was told, when she waked, to 
 say ' Good-morning ' aloud, and to keep on using her 
 natural voice. She did so. Now, in this case, I know 
 nothing whatever of the sufferer's spiritual condition ; 
 but it is very evident that there was no physical 
 hindrance to speech. What she needed was a free 
 will, or, as we often say, more will-power. 
 
 " It may have occurred to some of you that a certain 
 divine, about whom there has recently been a great deal 
 of talk, has said that the miracles of Christ may possi- 
 bly have been wrought by some sort of hypnotic power.
 
 g2 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 But hypnotism means sleep ; it is a surrendering of 
 will-power. A man may be cured of the tobacco-habit 
 by hypnotic suggestion, but he is not in the least more 
 able to overcome the whisky-habit because of his cure. 
 Rather, his will-power is weakened, certainly toward the 
 hypnotizer, and probably, in other directions ; though 
 the subject has been so little studied that we can not 
 speak positively. Now, Jesus Christ never put any one 
 to sleep in order to cure ; and his method seems to have 
 been to draw out the will and make it free. ' Stretch 
 forth thy hand,' 'Go, wash in the pool of Siloam,' 
 4 Show yourselves to the priests ' these were some of 
 his ways. 
 
 " Perhaps he means to call attention to this method 
 of his when he tells the Jews that their own sons shall 
 be their judges as to whether he casts out devils by 
 Beelzebub or by the finger of God. And then he 
 points out, clearly and unmistakably, the only source of 
 free-will. 'When a strong man fully armed keepeth 
 his own court, his goods are at peace; but when a 
 stronger than he shall come upon him, and overcome 
 him, he taketh from him all his armor wherein he 
 trusted, and divideth the spoils. He that is not with 
 me is against me ; and he that gathereth not with me 
 scattereth abroad.' 
 
 " That is, the strong man is only relatively strong ; 
 unless his will is one with Christ's, it is a divided will. 
 Even when the unclean spirit has been driven out of a 
 man shall we say by hypnotic influence ? the man is
 
 THE CASTING OUT OF DEVILS. 83 
 
 not safe, if his heart be, as hypnotic suggestion cer- 
 tainly leaves it, empty, swept, and garnished. For the 
 spirit may return in another form ; having been ban- 
 ished as alcohol, he may return as morphine, with seven 
 other spirits more wicked than himself; and the last 
 state of that man shall be worse than the first." 
 
 Cyril paused, and looked over the great church half- 
 wistfully, with those wonderful, changeful eyes. The 
 magnetic power of which Fritz Hermann had spoken 
 was strong upon them all. When they had left him, one 
 or another might differ with his conclusions, might 
 even be ready to hate and persecute him ; but it was a 
 magnetism which left no man there exactly as it had 
 found him. 
 
 " Is there no practical lesson for us ? " he said ; " are 
 there no devils to be cast out now ? My friends, it is 
 a deep thing, a thing hard to understand, but I, for one, 
 believe that all sorrow, all suffering, is the consequence of 
 sin our own sin and the sin of others. Sometimes only 
 bearing the sorrow can remove the sin ; otherwhiles, to 
 cure the sin is to cure the sickness, the trouble, the 
 insanity. If we had the power to annihilate at a blow 
 all the poverty and suffering in the world, should we 
 not fear to do so, lest our last state should be worse than 
 our first ? 
 
 " But to free our own will and the wills of others, to 
 free them by union with the will of Christ, tliat we may 
 dare to do! And also we have here a touch-stone 
 whereby to try the new theories and isms that are in
 
 84 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 the world ; and the work of mesmeric doctors, Chris- 
 tian scientists, and so on. Is the whole man made 
 stronger ; is his will more free ? Then forbid not the 
 cure. No man can so cast out devils save by the finger 
 of God. 
 
 " ' John said unto him, Master, we saw one casting 
 out devils in thy name, and we forbade him, because he 
 followed not us.' But Jesus said, ' Forbid him not ; for 
 there is no man which shall do a mighty work in my 
 name and be able quickly to speak evil of me. .For he 
 that is not against us is for us.' " 
 
 " How would you class that sermon ? " asked the 
 rector, smilingly, as he took off cassock and cotta in the 
 vestry. " One minute I thought it old-time mysticism ; 
 the next, brand-new modern materialism. I declare, 
 Deane, you've got me so mixed up, I sha'n't enjoy my 
 dinner. I wish you'd get your ideas a little straight- 
 ened out before you fire them at us. Not that it wasn't 
 a good sermon, you know." 
 
 " Thank you, sir," said Cyril, as he hurried away. 
 
 The Leonard brother and sister had not left the 
 church ; he was in time to give Meta a cordial hand- 
 shake, and to learn the name of her brother, little 
 Hugh. 
 
 " Fritz has gone away," she said, smiling ; but Hugh 
 only stared at Mr. Deane with his great eyes, and said 
 nothing at all.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 WHY NEED WE DIE? 
 
 DUSTING at the rectory on Sunday seemed to be con- 
 sidered a part of Cyril's ministerial duty. No one 
 knew just how the custom had so bound itself upon the 
 public conscience ; but perhaps Cyril would have been 
 more easily able to excuse himself occasionally had the 
 duty been less disagreeable. On this particular Sunday 
 the presence of the Rev. Bennet Lane was scarcely 
 an occasion of added cheerfulness. And yet I have an 
 uneasy sense of injustice toward the Reverend Bennet, 
 a consciousness that I am not showing him the excellent 
 fellow he is. But, indeed, it is the unlovely side of his 
 character that is uppermost at this time ; he is acting, 
 not as he believes, but as he dogmatizes, and the un- 
 reality makes him unlovely, for love is not only real, 
 but the only Real. 
 
 Mrs. Lydgate sat at the head of the table, calmly 
 dark and dignified ; she said little, but helped Cyril to 
 potatoes, and saw that his other wants were supplied, in 
 a manner that showed disapprobation. The rector's 
 eyes twinkled mischievously. He had long ago found 
 it necessary for his own well-being to incase himself in
 
 86 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 triple armor against Mrs. Lydgate's indifferences, and 
 perhaps some of the finer sympathies were excluded by 
 the same means ; at all events, he felt decidedly amused 
 at the young man's evident discomfort. The rest of 
 the family were not inclined to be talkative ; in fact, 
 the Lydgates were not loquacious ; but Eleanor, the 
 eldest daughter, said, after a while : 
 
 " I did not quite understand that sermon of yours 
 this morning, Mr. Deane." 
 
 " I'm sorry for that," said poor Cyril, trying to 
 smile. 
 
 " "Well, I'm sorry too," returned Eleanor, " because 
 it seemed as though it might have been so good, you 
 know, if one could but have got hold of it. I suppose 
 it was my stupidity " 
 
 " Yes, it must have been," said Nina, promptly. 
 
 " Nina ! " 
 
 " Well, mamma, / understood it." 
 
 " It's awfully good of you to say so, Miss Nina," said 
 Cyril, laughing and blushing like a girl, " but I am not 
 sure that I understood it myself. It was a sudden in- 
 spiration, you know " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! such as the prophets used to have," said 
 Eleanor, innocently. 
 
 " Now now Miss Eleanor pray " 
 
 " Pray? Yes, I think she'd better," said the rector, 
 unexpectedly. " Never mind, Deane, there were always 
 plenty to stone the prophets. Have you ever observed, 
 Mr. Lane, what a bad habit people have of discussing
 
 WHY NEED WE DIE? 87 
 
 sermons, instead of laying them to heart? Not that I 
 ever allow mine to be discussed which accounts for 
 the vim with which my family attack those of other 
 people." 
 
 "Are you not unjust to Eleanor, Dr. Lydgate?" 
 asked his wife. " It was scarcely an attack, I think. 
 One can not blame her for wishing to have what she 
 does not understand explained to her." 
 
 " But the dinner-table is not just the place for an 
 explanation of that kind," said the doctor. " I'll lend 
 you and Deane my study after dinner, Eleanor, if you 
 wish." 
 
 " Papa," said Eleanor, " did you understand what 
 Mr. Deane meant ? " 
 
 " Well," said the doctor, who felt that he was driven 
 into a corner, " perhaps he expressed it differently, but 
 I'm sure I've said essentially the same thing a dozen 
 times. If you wish to have the question so stated that 
 you can understand it, Eleanor, there is a very good 
 
 clew in a lecture by Dr. B , which I will show you. 
 
 You've read his Lectures on Preaching, Mr. Lane ? " 
 
 " No, I have not. Do you recommend them ? " asked 
 the Reverend Bennet. 
 
 The rector chuckled. " Truth and Personality," 
 he said, " that's the subject of it. Personality the in- 
 fluence of personality that's what Deane was trying to 
 get at this morning, I think." 
 
 " Trying to get at ? " said Mrs. Lydgate, express- 
 ively.
 
 88 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " That's just about where it is," said Cyril. " I was 
 carried out of myself, Mrs. Lydgate ; I can only apolo- 
 gize. I say, doctor, will you lend me those lectures ? " 
 
 "With pleasure. / don't think them unsound," 
 said Dr. Lydgate, with a comical glance at Mr. Lane. 
 
 " Don't mind the women," was his advice to Cyril, 
 later on. " Go right ahead, and give your inspiration 
 the reins ; a little wholesale mysticism doesn't hurt 
 anybody. Of course, mysticism is largely a matter of 
 temperament; but lots of people have that tempera- 
 ment, and it is right that their needs should be met. 
 By the way, didn't I see you speaking to Miss Leonard ? 
 Do you know her ? " 
 
 " I know some things about her, sir." 
 
 The rector's face worked. " She's a strange girl," 
 he said. " I was glad to see her at church to-day. She 
 is really one of our people still, you know, and I think 
 perhaps you may be able to do something for her. I 
 can not ; but it is scarcely her fault, poor girl." 
 
 " No," said Cyril ; " it is not her fault." 
 
 " Let me tell you one thing, Mr. Lane," said the 
 doctor, when Cyril had gone to his mission Sunday- 
 school and had left them alone : " I have a strong sus- 
 picion that neither of us is fit to tie that young man's 
 shoes ; and that for us to disapprove of him is simply 
 cheeky." 
 
 " I admire his personal character as much as you 
 could do," said Mr. Lane ; " and it is just because I love 
 him that it pains me to see him becoming ah not ex-
 
 WHY NEED WE DIE? 89 
 
 actly sound, you know deserting his colors at the crisis 
 of the bat" 
 
 " Bosh and botheration ! " said the doctor, so gen- 
 ially that it did not seem rude. 
 
 At Sunday-school Cyril succeeded in getting a 
 word with Nina. "I thought you were angry, Miss 
 Nina," he said, smilingly ; " you plainly avoided me this 
 morning, but you took my part nobly at dinner." 
 
 " I liked that sermon," said Nina, without denying 
 the charge of avoidance ; " but Eleanor is always dis- 
 agreeable; nobody minds her. Mr. Deane, do you 
 know, I told mamma about the lady in black ! I felt as 
 though I must. Was that she at church to-day ? " 
 
 " Yes ; it seems she is an old parishioner. Your 
 father was very glad to see her here again ; so it was 
 quite right of her to send a message, and only bad taste 
 that made her send for me instead of him." 
 
 " What's her name ? Mamma said she thought she 
 knew her, and her face got so red " 
 
 " Her name is Leonard," said Cyril, hastily, " and she 
 seems very pleasant; but if she should seek you out 
 again, Miss Nina Well, I can hardly explain " 
 
 " Oh, I've heard of Meta Leonard," said Nina. 
 " She's awfully pretty." 
 
 To which remark Cyril had no reply ready. 
 
 Fortified by the approval of his rector, and drawn 
 by an attraction which he had not yet classified, Cyril 
 found himself, in a very few days, standing again out-
 
 90 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 side the green gate. Old Nastasia held up her hands in 
 thankfulness when she opened it to admit him. " Bress 
 de Lawd, young marster," she said, " wid you come, an' 
 dat ar' sarpint done gone away, dar's some use o' livin'. 
 Come right in ; dey's in de parlor, same as folks. Ole 
 Nastasia ain't got no use for dese no-'count ways o' 
 con j 'in' people, no- way. What w'ite folks know 'bout 
 conj'in'?" 
 
 As Cyril entered the parlor Hugh came forward in 
 his old-fashioned way to shake hands, and then curled 
 up in an arm-chair with one knee under him, and his 
 great, solemn eyes on his visitor. 
 
 "Sister will be here in a moment," said Hugh. 
 " Grandmamma wants to see you. She saw you com- 
 ing up the garden, and rang her bell for sister to 
 get her clean cap and make her tidy. It is usually 
 Martha who does those things for grandmamma," 
 the boy continued, " but since Fritz has been away, and 
 sister gives no more seances, grandmamma says she 
 must earn her living in some way, so she has discharged 
 Martha" 
 
 " Your grandmamma must be a sad invalid," said 
 Cyril. 
 
 " She is not sad," said the boy, " but she is very 
 dreadfully cross. Do you think she is obsessed by a 
 devil, Mr. Deane ? " 
 
 " If she is old and not always amiable ? " said Cyril. 
 " My dear boy, wait until you are old and sick, and per- 
 haps you will understand."
 
 WHY NEED WE DIE? 91 
 
 s 
 
 " But that is a long time to wait to understand any- 
 thing," said the boy, solemnly. " Then, if she is not 
 obsessed, could Jesus Christ have healed her ? " 
 
 " If her sickness comes from old age, death will heal 
 her," said Cyril. 
 
 " Then death is stronger than Jesus Christ," said 
 Hugh. " Could our Lord have healed me, Mr. 
 Deane?" 
 
 " My dear little boy," said Cyril, " certainly he could 
 heal you now if he thought it best ; and he has con- 
 quered death, you know, for he rose from the dead." 
 
 " Materialized ? " said Hugh. 
 
 " Not quite ; " and Cyril took the child on his knee 
 and told him the story of the Lord's crucifixion and 
 rising again, and how numbers of those who slept arose 
 and walked about the city and were seen of many. 
 
 " Then they materialized, at all events," said the 
 child. " And that's how it was, you see : the bodies 
 would not hold together, and so they had to go back 
 again. That's always the way with spirits. They de- 
 materialize so soon." 
 
 "But, my dear child, how did you hear such 
 things ? " 
 
 " Oh ! I slip into the seances sometimes," said the 
 boy. " Fritz says I am a sensitive, too, and if he were 
 my legal guardian he could train my powers ; but, you 
 see, I've got such a poor physique, he's afraid to run 
 any risks with me without my guardian's consent." 
 
 " I see," said Cyril.
 
 92 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " But if Christ conquered death, why need we die ? " 
 continued the boy. " Grandmamma hates it so. Say/ 
 why need we ? " 
 
 " ' Who by his death hath destroyed death, and by 
 his rising again hath restored to us everlasting life,' " 
 said Cyril, seriously. " Keally, it does seem unnecessary, 
 Hugh." 
 
 " Then why do people die ? " persisted the boy. 
 
 "I don't know," said Cyril. He could not, or 
 would not, evade or puzzle a childish questioner to hide 
 his own ignorance, and it struck him for the first time 
 that he really did not know. Then he smiled suddenly. 
 " I'll tell you how I think it may be, Hugh," he said. 
 " You know, our Lord destroyed sin, and yet we sin 
 still ; and so, though he conquered death, we die still." 
 
 " Then where's the good of it?" 
 
 " The good of it is, that he did the hardest part of 
 the work and left it for us to finish, except that he did 
 not leave us, you know, for he is with us always. And, 
 of course, we can not finish the work all at once. It 
 has to be done gradually, and when it is quite done, 
 there will be no more death ; for St. Paul says, ' The 
 last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.' " 
 
 " Then must grandmamma die ? " 
 
 " Why, I'm afraid so you, and grandmamma, and 
 I ; but we won't mind that, if we can help win the bat- 
 tle for other people, will we?" said the young man, 
 cheerfully. 
 
 Hugh's eyes gleamed ; he gave a quaint little rapt-
 
 WHY NEED WE DIEf 93 
 
 urous smile; then his heavily marked eyebrows rose 
 slightly, in a very grown-up way. " I believe grand- 
 mamma would mind that," he said. " Ah ! there's 
 Meta." 
 
 It seemed to Cyril that she had grown younger and 
 sweeter in those few days more like a woman and less 
 like a spirit. 
 
 " Fritz is still away," she said. " He writes me that 
 he is learning such wonderful things, which he will tell 
 me when he returns. Now, will you come and see 
 grandmamma ? "
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 CRIMSON AND SUNSET GOLD. 
 
 IT was a brilliant Indian summer afternoon, with 
 just a softening haze over all, as though the day had 
 lowered its lashes in modest consciousness of its own 
 beauty. The south and west windows of the great 
 square room were ablaze with the declining sunlight ; 
 low, wide windows they were, framed in coral honey- 
 suckle ; outside of one was a circular bed of brilliant, 
 red geraniums, and the other looked out upon bushes of 
 scarlet sage. Pots of bright-hued plants were in bloom 
 upon the deep window-seats ; the carpet and furniture 
 were a deep crimson, and curtains of the same hue 
 were drawn quite back from the windows upon their 
 brass rods, lest they should intercept a single sun-ray. 
 A bright log-fire upon the open hearth, reflected from 
 the brazen andirons and fender, added to the stifling 
 heat and overpowering vividness of the room ; and in a 
 great crimson cushioned chair drawn close by the 
 hearth sat a Pair of Eyes. 
 
 She was very old. Whether she had any hair was 
 uncertain, for a cap with a fluffy border of crepe lisse 
 was drawn nearly to her eyebrows; it was white in
 
 CRIMSON AND SUNSET GOLD. 95 
 
 color ; her dress was black, but she had a gay red shawl 
 over her shoulders ; her face was deadly white, seamed 
 and crossed by thousands of tiny wrinkles ; her eyes ! 
 
 Cyril's heart beat strangely ; one great throb, and 
 then it sank down down, whether in pity or terror he 
 could scarcely have told. What was this bent, white, 
 dreadful thing ? Was it woman, or devil ? But he forced 
 himself to meet her eyes quietly ; he held her hand 
 without a tremor, as she peered eagerly into his face. 
 
 " So you are Cyril Deane ? " she said. He could not 
 tell if her voice had disappointment in it. 
 
 " I am Cyril Deane," he said, with that sweet, bright 
 smile of his ; " how can I help you ? " 
 
 It was not a mere fashion of speech ; this woman 
 had fastened to his coming some sort of hope he felt 
 that in every nerve ; and the sudden blaze in her dark, 
 terrible eyes did not contradict the thought. 
 
 " Sit down," she said. " Talk to me ; tell me about 
 yourself, what you know, what you can do. Let me find 
 out if you can help me." 
 
 How should he speak to this soul ? It was some- 
 thing real she wanted from him ; therefore, after a 
 moment's pause, he answered her straight out of the 
 eternal verities. 
 
 " About myself ? " he said. " I am only the servant 
 of Jesus Christ, Mrs. Shryock that is all there is to say 
 about me ; and my aim is to be able to know and to do 
 only his will." 
 
 " There were slaves once," she said, " who knew and
 
 96 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 did only my will, or else I had them beaten. She, 
 there," pointing to Meta, " is the slave of Fritz Her- 
 mann. He does not beat her he does not need, for she 
 can not refuse to obey ; but when he is gone she is 
 happier, and she does as she likes. You aim to have no 
 will but Christ's ; you wish to be his slave is that it ? " 
 
 " Not his slave, but his freeman," he said. 
 
 She gazed at him unflinchingly with her terrible 
 eyes. 
 
 " My grandson Hugh to be more exact, my great- 
 grandson came home on Sunday and told me about 
 your sermon. Do you believe that Jesus Christ healed 
 the sick ? yes ? raised the dead YES ? " her voice 
 rising to a shriek " did he raise the dead ? " 
 
 " He did," said Cyril, calmly. 
 
 " And his followers did any of them raise the 
 dead?" 
 
 " That is not quite certain," said Cyril. " In the 
 case of Eutychus, who fell from the third loft and was 
 taken up for dead, it seems probable that he was only 
 stunned. The context " 
 
 "What do I care for contexts?" said the old 
 woman. "Do you know of any one who can raise the 
 dead now ? " 
 
 "I do not." 
 
 " Nor who can keep the living alive forever ? " 
 
 " Only one." 
 
 " WHO ? pshaw ! I see the answer on your lips. 
 Christ, is it not ? But I know, too, how he does it. It
 
 CRIMSON AND SUNSET GOLD. 97 
 
 is not what / mean by life. Go ! you are like all 
 preachers. Go ! " 
 
 " Why should you have thought me different from 
 the rest," asked Cyril, with a smile. 
 
 " I do not know," she said, more calmly. " Only 
 they Meta and Fritz have such power over the dead ; 
 they can bring back their souls from wherever it is 
 hell or heaven, and even give them bodies for a few 
 moments. Well you " 
 
 " Yes," said Cyril, " what of me ? for I can do 
 nothing like that, you know." 
 
 "But you have such power over them" said the old 
 woman. " You broke the power of Fritz over the girl. 
 Nastasia says you have the conjurer's art gift what 
 you like to call it. Fritz admits your wonderful mag- 
 netic power. Perhaps you could raise the dead, if you 
 would only try. Or at least you could keep one alive 
 an old woman like me just a few years, a few months 
 longer." Her aged voice with that shrill, tuneless 
 quaver ah, it was very pitiful ! " Do you not think 
 so ? " she urged, eagerly. 
 
 " Do you so much dread to die ? " he asked, com- 
 passionately. 
 
 She trembled all over. " Meta," she said, sharply, 
 " leave the room ! " 
 
 The girl obeyed. Cyril sprang from his chair to 
 open the door for her, and as she passed him she looked 
 into his face with great, pathetic eyes full of tears. He 
 returned to his place beside the old woman, thrilling in
 
 98 ' FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 every nerve ; his head was confused. For a moment he 
 scarcely heard the words she was pouring into his ear, 
 until one sentence startled him awake. 
 
 " You shall have her," said the old woman, " and 
 every penny of my money except what I need for my- 
 self, but that is very little. And I have plenty of 
 money oh ! plenty ; no one knows but me how much ; 
 for when I pretend to be poor, it is only to make 
 them economical. And I wish to live ! God of heaven, 
 how I wish it ! Make me live, keep me alive, and all 
 of it Meta, too shall be.your own." 
 
 He passed his hand wearily across his eyes. " Dear 
 madam," he said, " what I can do for you I will ; but 
 life is the gift of God." 
 
 "I was reading a story the other day," she said 
 " oh ! I can read, I have my second sight now of one 
 who kept alive an old, old man, older than I over a 
 century. It was by magnetism. They threw him into 
 a magnetic sleep, and there was no waste of tissue." 
 
 " I have read that story," he said. " "What effect had 
 the power she wielded on the soul of the magnetizer ? " 
 
 " Does that matter ? " she asked. But, ah, I see ! 
 you are like the rest it is your own salvation that 
 matters chiefly to you ; you would not imperil that to 
 save a universe ! " 
 
 He leaned forward and took her withered hand in 
 his own. "Dear lady," he said, "what you mean by 
 my power I do not know, nor whether I have any ; but of 
 this I am sure, that all that is in me comes down from
 
 CRIMSON AND SUNSET GOLD. 99 
 
 the Father of lights the Father of life ' with whom is 
 no variableness, neither shadow of turning.' If now I 
 turn away from him if I do what I do not know 
 to be right I let go of his hand ; and where is my 
 power ? " 
 
 She laid her other hand over his and looked piteous- 
 ly into his face. " As for mere existence," he went on, 
 " mere absence of putrefaction, such a life in death of 
 the body, and death in life of the soul, as was described 
 in that book well, it may be Mr. Hermann could 
 give you that for a few months ; but would you care for 
 it?" 
 
 " I am afraid to die," she said, hoarsely, holding fast 
 his hand as though some: power came to her through 
 the white, strong fingers ; "there is a worse life in death 
 than the one you have described." 
 
 " Tell me," he said. 
 
 Her voice was a hoarse, terrible whisper. "If one 
 could die outright," she said, " it would be easy ; but to 
 cling to matter, to embody one's self in a chair or table, 
 to write on slates and tie cords together ; to take blood 
 from a poor, weak girl like Meta there, just to pose as a 
 human being for a few brief minutes ! Mr. Deane> 
 when I was ' the proud Katharine Fane,' as they called 
 me, would any one have supposed I should come to that ? 
 Why, there was a negro boy once he was my half- 
 brother, and knew it, as I did, and he loved the very 
 ground I walked on. But one evening, as he helped me 
 from the carriage, he touched his lips to my bare arm,
 
 100 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 where the cloak had blown aside. I was beautiful in 
 those days ! " 
 
 " Yes ? " he said, as she paused. 
 
 " I had him sold ! " she went on. " I knew that in 
 his heart he dared to think of me as his sister, and I was 
 so proud ! And it broke his heart. I never heard that 
 he was treated unkindly ; but he would not eat ; he 
 drooped away, faded, and died. Negroes are like that 
 at times; they have not the stamina that we have. 
 But he did not quite die, you know he has come back ; 
 he can not get away from me, he says. No one knows 
 who he is ; he only calls himself ' Henry ' ; and it was 
 sixty years ago. Think of it sixty years drifting 
 around in the smoky, sooty, curse-laden air of this 
 world, clinging to tables and chairs ! Can you save me 
 from that?" 
 
 " Do you ever wish you could save him ? " asked 
 Cyril. " Eemember, you sent him to it." 
 
 " A negro a mere slave and to dare to kiss my 
 arm ! " she said. 
 
 " Your brother ! " said Cyril. 
 
 " An ignorant boy who could not even read ; even 
 now he can only send messages through my father ! " 
 
 " So they are together, and there is no inequality 
 between them but one of spelling," said Cyril. " Mrs. 
 Shryock, if the boy belonged to you so utterly, body and 
 soul, you could have made him what you would. We 
 wield a fearful power over those who love us. It is 
 your blame that the boy is where he is. But remem-
 
 CRIMSON AND SUNSET GOLD. 101 
 
 ber that action and reaction are always equal : his power 
 over you must be equal to yours over him, though it 
 may not be evident in any shape that you can recognize. 
 But when you go where he is now where he is the 
 older inhabitant " He was interrupted by a frightful 
 shriek ! The old woman pushed him away from her 
 with both hands, and rang her bell violently. " Fiend ! 
 devil ! to torture me so ! " she cried. " Go ! leave me ! " 
 
 Then Meta, Nastasia, perhaps others Cyril could 
 not be sure came rushing in ; it was all a horrible con- 
 fusion of cries to God for mercy and frightful blas- 
 phemies. In the midst of it one sentence rang out 
 clear and distinct upon the young man's bewildered 
 sense : 
 
 " There is no hope ! I offered him your love as a 
 bribe, and he scorned it." 
 
 He turned and would have hurried from the room, 
 carrying with him the vision of a slender figure, white 
 against the crimson background, her slight fingers 
 clasped appealingly, her eyes large and strained. 
 " Grandmother," she cried, " what would you make of 
 me ? Kill me, and have done with it. I am- a straw, 
 a plaything unfit to live. Have I no self of my 
 own?" 
 
 Then Cyril gathered himself together and turned 
 back ; he held out both hands, in which she laid her 
 own unhesitatingly, looking into his eyes with utter 
 trust. His face was very white, and his hands were 
 cold but untremulous. " So help me God," he said,
 
 102 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " as I help you to be true to yourself ; afterward to 
 whomsoever you will." 
 
 When next he came to himself nay, rather, when 
 he became conscious of the motions of his earthly taber- 
 nacle he stood upon the edge of a hill just where a 
 deep cutting had been made for the railway. It lay 
 before him black and grimy, and upon the other side of 
 it such a settlement as is apt to spring up in the track 
 of this harbinger and vital cord of civilization foul, 
 sordid, reeking with the fumes of liquor-dens and all 
 imaginable and unimaginable vice. Beyond it, the top- 
 most rim of the setting sun just touched the horizon 
 as he gazed, then sank it seemed forever; but in its 
 place lay a host of gorgeous clouds wrought into palaces 
 and pinnacles, and colored in rose and gold ; and above 
 these the slender silver moon peeped timidly out from 
 the blue heavens, with a thought of Meta in her arms 
 for Cyril. She too this timid, pale moon was but the 
 reflection of a stronger personality. 
 
 As he looked and looked feeling a vague comfort in 
 the planet so dear for ages to all lovers, though they 
 know not why there was a crunching of the gravel 
 upon the side of the hill, and the next instant a man 
 sprang up the steep ascent with a firm, vigorous step, 
 and stood, flushed slightly and smiling, upon the top. 
 And yet it was scarcely a smile upon his lips, but in 
 his eyes it shone with an inexpressible radiance. He 
 was not so tall as Cyril, scarcely above medium height,
 
 CRIMSON AND SUNSET GOLD. 103 
 
 but strongly made and glowing with vigorous health. 
 The face was strikingly handsome, the contour a pure 
 oval, the features regular. A full, silky mustache veiled 
 the arched upper lip, and waves of hair like black 
 floss curved across a broad, low brow. The skin wore 
 the dark, creamy hue of a ripe nectarine ; the lips and 
 cheeks were bright with health ; the eyes, large and 
 clear, were wonderful in their dark, steady brilliance ; 
 they were not eager, flashing, dazzling ; they were quiet, 
 steady, and sure very sure, and very happy, thought 
 Cyril, looking into them. 
 
 To his surprise the man came at once toward him 
 and held out his hand, in which Cyril laid his own, still 
 thrilling with the touch of Meta's fingers. There was 
 no smile now either in the eyes or upon the lips of the 
 stranger; only a steady cheerfulness, that seemed to 
 pour hope and courage into Cyril's troubled soul 
 through the windows of his eyes. Then the hands 
 loosed themselves, and the new-comer turned to go, si- 
 lently as he had come. Cyril hurried after him and laid 
 a detaining hand upon his shoulder. The other stood 
 perfectly still, with his head slightly bent and a half- 
 smile upon his lips, but did not turn or look round. 
 
 " Who are you ? " asked Cyril. 
 
 " They call me Felix Gold," said the other. His 
 voice was clear and sweet, and with a wonderful car- 
 rying power ; he spoke in a quiet, matter-of-course 
 tone. 
 
 " The man who heals the sick ? "
 
 104 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " The man who tries to teach the sick to heal them- 
 selves and others." 
 
 There was a foreign ring about his voice, but Cyril 
 could not determine to what precise nationality he 
 belonged. The hand dropped slowly, lingeringly ; still, 
 it fell. Without a look aside, Felix Gold walked away a 
 few steps. i 
 
 " Stop ! " cried Cyril. 
 
 The man came back, and this time stood facing him. 
 The glory of the sunset had grown deeper, and the 
 moon shone faintly, lost in the vivid glow, like an 
 earthly hope amid thoughts of heaven. Felix Gold 
 stretched out toward the beauty his strong right hand. 
 
 " He who made it," he said, " is our Father." His 
 eyes dwelt upon Cyril's troubled face with the quiet 
 tenderness of a mother watching her sick child. 
 
 " Do you know my name ? " asked Cyril. 
 
 " I do not." 
 
 " "Why did you offer me your hand ? " 
 
 " That you might know me for your brother ready 
 to help you." 
 
 " How do you know that I need help ? " 
 
 " God showed it to me." 
 
 " Did he lead you here for my sake ? " 
 
 The man's face glowed suddenly ; he stooped and 
 plucked a blade of grass from the side of the hill. 
 " Does the sun shine, or the rain fall, for the sake of 
 that blade of grass ? " he said. " Oh, there are millions 
 of grass-blades ! Our only surety is to go where he
 
 CRIMSON AND SUNSET GOLD. 1Q5 
 
 leads us, like the sun-rays and the water-drops; and 
 with whomsoever we find ourselves it is to him we must 
 minister. And yet," he added, looking smilingly into 
 Cyril's eyes, " I knew that some one was waiting for 
 me. Down in the valley yonder I paused to watch the 
 sunset, but the Spirit said, ' Best not ; he awaits thee.' 
 Then the brambles caught my clothing and delayed me ; 
 but the voice said again, ' Haste not , you will be just in 
 time.' Now you know all." 
 
 "All?" said Cyril; "who knows all? Only God. 
 Was it two days, or two years ago, that I said to myself, 
 ' Now I know why he brought me to this place ' ? " 
 
 " And behold, you knew not the half thereof," said 
 Felix Gold, quietly, but with shining eyes. " Now you 
 know more or perhaps seem to know less, I can not tell ; 
 but you are stunned, bewildered, by the revelation of his 
 meaning. Take courage, brother ; even yet you know 
 not all his will, nor shall till you tread the golden streets 
 of the City ; but he knows. Will not that suffice ? " 
 
 Cyril held out his hand once more. "You have 
 spoken his word to me," he said ; " leave me now alone 
 with him. I will see you soon again." 
 
 Felix Gold gave the hand a strong, tender pressure, 
 and smiled with a vividness of brotherly affection such 
 as Cyril had never seen on human face. The next 
 moment his vigorous steps had carried him far away.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 WHAT IS THIS POWEK? 
 
 " MR. DEANE, did our Lord ever do anything in the 
 very least wrong ? " 
 
 A shiver of horror ran over the Bible-class ; but 
 Nina kept those clear, honest eyes of hers fixed upon 
 the teacher's face awaiting reply. 
 
 Cyril had been conducting the lesson with consider- 
 ably less than his usual spirit (or unction, as the quaint, 
 expressive old word is), and felt a distinct relief when 
 Nina thus interrupted what he had begun to feel as a 
 grinding monotony. He looked up for he had been 
 sitting with his head bent on his hand, listening to a 
 paper, by a young lady in spectacles, upon the site of 
 Capernaum and smiled as he answered : '"He was in 
 all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin.' 
 Why do you ask, Miss Nina ? " 
 
 " Well," said Nina, " because some things they tell 
 us about him don't seem quite right." 
 
 " Then you are quite right to inquire into them," 
 said Cyril. " What are they ? Only mind, they may 
 puzzle me too ; I don't profess to be able to explain 
 everything."
 
 WHAT IS THIS POWER? 107 
 
 " Then why do you undertake to teach us ? " asked 
 Nina. 
 
 " Because you are not far enough advanced to ask 
 everything quite," said Cyril, hushing by a gesture 
 the " Oh ! " of the spectacled young lady. " But I shall 
 be glad if you do puzzle me, Miss Nina ; because any 
 fresh difficulty as to our Lord's character or actions is 
 only a door into some beautiful, new knowledge of him. 
 And he opens every door to those who knock. Now, 
 what is your trouble ? " 
 
 " Well," said Nina, " it's the Pyro-Phcenician wom- 
 an." 
 
 " The what ? " cried the spectacled young lady. 
 
 " Never mind," said Cyril. " Syro or Pyro, what's 
 the odds? I know what she means." 
 
 " It was only a slip of the tongue," said Nina, with 
 an indignant glance. 
 
 "And a slip of the tongue," said Cyril, "some- 
 times gives us an opportunity to avoid a slip of the 
 temper." 
 
 Nina smiled. " I know I am inaccurate," she said 
 to the spectacled young lady ; " thank you for taking 
 me up. I wish I could be as thorough as you are." 
 
 " And I wish I could be as sweet-tempered as you," 
 said the other, effusively. 
 
 " Come now, we are really on the way to learn some- 
 thing at last," said Cyril ; " and in the only way it can 
 be done, Miss Nina by all learning of and all teaching 
 one another. I believe that the moment one of us sets
 
 108 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 himself or herself upon a pedestal as teacher only, and 
 the only teacher, that moment there ceases to be either 
 real learning or real teaching." 
 
 " But I supposed all clergymen were on just such 
 a pedestal," said Nina, bluntly ; " or thought so, any- 
 how." 
 
 " Very few of them think so," said Cyril ; "practi- 
 cally all of us confess at least privately to learning 
 from our flocks at least as much as we teach ; and in- 
 fallibility is less the conventional official attitude than it 
 used to be. They do let the poor stork put his leg down 
 occasionally," he added, laughing. " But now for the 
 Pyro-Pho3nician woman." 
 
 Nina looked down meditatively upon her open 
 Bible. 
 
 " Was our Lord making believe, was he cross to her, 
 or did he intend all the time to heal her daughter ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 " What was the matter with her daughter ? " asked 
 Cyril. 
 
 " She was grievously vexed with a devil," said Nina. 
 " It was your sermon the other day that made me think 
 of it," she added. "I found 'DEVILS cast out by 
 Christ,' in the index to my Bible, and hunted out every 
 last one." 
 
 " I wish you could hunt out every last one," said 
 Cyril ; " but it is a practical sort of thing to attempt 
 anyway. Now, do you think a devil is a nice sort of 
 thing to have in the family ? "
 
 WHAT IS THIS POWER? 1Q9 
 
 " Not very," said Nina, gravely. 
 
 "What sort of mother would be apt to have a 
 daughter a child, St. Mark calls her so afflicted ? " 
 
 " Well," said Nina, " I don't know ; but may be, if 
 she'd been a very nice woman, the devil would have 
 kept out of the neighborhood." 
 
 " She doesn't seem to have been pretty-behaved," 
 said Cyril, " for she called after him almost insultingly, 
 so that the apostles were shocked at her behavior, and 
 wanted her sent away." 
 
 " I did not think of that," said Nina. 
 
 " No ; people don't realize that Bible folk are real 
 folk," said Cyril. " Our Lord wouldn't have her sent 
 away, because it was her mother-love that had brought 
 her to him ; but he couldn't give her anything that she 
 asked for in that way ; it wouldn't have done her or her 
 daughter any good." 
 
 " Besides that," said the spectacled young lady, " this 
 woman was outside the pale. Our Lord was only sent to 
 the lost sheep of the house of Israel." 
 
 " Then what was he doing in the coasts of Tyre and 
 Sidon at all ? Passing through, of course ; but he 
 never could have gone through a place merely to get 
 somewhere else ! I suspect he meant that this woman 
 was a lost sheep of Israel, perhaps the very one, or one 
 of the ones, he went there to look up. And, moreover, 
 he said that to the apostles ; there is no reason to sup- 
 pose the woman heard him. She simply stood and 
 called out in her loud, angry way, until, finding he took
 
 HO FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 no notice, she came nearer, and said more humbly, 
 ' Lord, help me' ! " 
 
 " And that was just what he wanted," said Nina. 
 
 " For her sake, not his ; he did not stand on his dig- 
 nity except for the sake of others. But the woman 
 needed to be brought nearer still, so he said, ' It is not 
 meet to take the children's bread and cast it to dogs.' " 
 
 " That does sound cross," said Nina, with decision. 
 
 Cyril smiled. " Was she a dog, or a child of God ? " 
 he asked. 
 
 " She was a child of God," said Nina. 
 
 " But how had she behaved, barking at their heels 
 like that?" 
 
 " Oh ! then he only meant to explain that he wanted 
 her te behave like the child of God that she was." 
 
 " And she explained back again that she was like 
 those wild Eastern dogs, barking from hunger after the 
 very crumbs of the blessings he scattered around him," 
 returned Cyrilt ' 
 
 " And then she went home, and found her daughter 
 laid upon the bed no wonder she was tired ! and the 
 mother was all nice and gentled down, and could nurse 
 her." 
 
 " ' Gentled down ! ' that's a good word," said Cyril. 
 "Yes; it's what we do not think of, I fear, that it is 
 very hard to drive the devil out of one member of a 
 family or community. We are so bound together, that 
 each of us is more or less responsible for the devil in 
 every one else ; and letting him into one's own heart
 
 WHAT IS THIS POWER? 
 
 gives him a vantage-ground with one's neighbor which 
 is a good thing to remember," finished Cyril as he dis- 
 missed the class. 
 
 He threw himself wearily into a chair when they 
 had left him, and took up a paper ; for Cyril, since he 
 had been a Christian socialist, had read the papers as a 
 religious duty. Not that the papers were in themselves 
 particularly religious, according to any definition of that 
 word so much disputed about ; but what duty can be 
 higher than that of keeping one's self acquainted with the 
 facts of the world's history ? And one can often reach 
 the facts from the daily papers by the simple process of 
 believing the precise opposite of that which is therein 
 stated. Cyril intensified this process by reading all 
 sides and shades of opinion ; he liked, he said, to keep in 
 touch with his age ; and by the sudden start he gave, 
 and the pallor, followed by a deep flush, that overspread 
 his face, the touch seemed to have been a very sharp 
 one. 
 
 It was an advertisement, a mere ordinary advertise- 
 ment, that, after her long enforced rest on account of 
 illness, Miss Leonard would resume her seances upon 
 such a date. 
 
 Cyril groaned. He had not seen her for several 
 weeks ; he had felt it impossible to do so, after what had 
 been said by that half -insane old woman to him and to 
 her ; but he felt now that he had played the coward in 
 leaving her, his nay, Arthur's ewe-lamb, to be de- 
 voured by wolves. Yet she had had One with her who
 
 112 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 was far more able to help than Cyril. And ah ! liow he 
 had prayed for her ! Cowardice ? yes, he had been cow- 
 ardly ; but it was himself he had feared, his own strength 
 that he had distrusted. That pitiful cry of hers had re- 
 vealed to him his own heart ; he had felt that his only 
 means of keeping the pledge he had made her lay in 
 absence. 
 
 And now she was fast in the toils again, and worse 
 than oblivious of Arthur, since her very love for him 
 was used to drag her down lower than the earth, and 
 her sweet thoughts were given, perhaps, to an evil 
 spirit a lost spirit in Arthur's likeness. 
 
 He threw himself on his knees. 
 
 m " Lord, thou knowest all," he said ; " thou knowest 
 how I love her. Make my love like thine. Help me to 
 help her." 
 
 For a moment he remained utterly motionless ; then 
 a thrill swept over him. He sprang to his feet. 
 
 Felix Gold ! 
 
 There was something about the man that differed 
 from the rank and file of humanity, some power of in- 
 sight, certainly, into the hearts of others ; perhaps the 
 power of healing, that he claimed. At any rate, Cyril 
 would go and see ; he felt, indeed, that he must ; he 
 had no choice. The Spirit of the Lord was upon him, 
 strongly and sweetly leading him thither. 
 
 The Nineteenth-Century Mission was a small room, 
 scarcely even a hall, upon the ground-floor of a shabby-
 
 WHAT IS THIS POWER? 
 
 looking building on a street which formed the boundary- 
 line between respectability and its converse in Fairtown. 
 Just that particular square was quiet and perfectly safe ; 
 but even around the corner it was best to have a police- 
 man handy. 
 
 The hall was neatly carpeted and well lighted ; it 
 was supplied with brown-painted pine benches, gospel 
 hymns, and a melodeon. A platform was raised at one 
 end, and upon it sat Felix Gold for the meeting was 
 well under way when Cyril arrived. He slipped into 
 a seat near the door and looked around him. There 
 were not many present, only a few of those common 
 people who have ever heard gladly any good tidings that 
 promise to brighten their dull lives. Their features 
 were roughly hewn, their dress was shabby and poor ; 
 even the voices, in which they sang their poor praises, 
 were uncultivated, scarcely musical; yet there was a 
 strange influence upon them all, and every face was 
 bright with a strange happiness. 
 
 And what was this hymn they were ending as the 
 young man entered ? True, he thought, as his eye fell 
 upon the words most true had been the leading that 
 had brought him here to-night : 
 
 " The winds and the waves shall obey my will : 
 
 Peace be still ! 
 
 Whether the wrath of the storm-tossed sea, 
 Or demons, or men, or whatever it be, 
 No water can swallow the ship where lies 
 The Master of ocean and earth and skies ; 
 They all shall sweetly obey my will : 
 Peace be still I "
 
 114: FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 When the hymn was over, a voice near Cyril sug- 
 gested another : 
 
 " He leadeth me, he leadeth me, 
 By his own hand he leadeth me." 
 
 " That's so, brethren," said the voice that had sug- 
 gested it ; " he's led me by his right hand even until now. 
 It's a mighty wonderful thing, and that's why I want to 
 tell you about it to-night the way he's led me all my 
 life." 
 
 There was something about the voice, so soft, so 
 rich and full, that made Cyril turn his head for a look 
 at the speaker. Yes, he was a negro, without a trace 
 of white blood ; tall and powerful, with jet-black, shin- 
 ing skin, and features but one degree removed from the 
 most aggressive negro type ; but his large, liquid eyes 
 were misty with a joy and peace that glorifiied all his 
 face and made it beautiful. 
 
 " Yes, my brothers and sisters, he leads me always. 
 I've had lots of trouble. I've seen my children die off 
 like flies in the hot weather. Sometimes I've been 
 mighty nigh despair ; but he kep' fast hold of my hand 
 and would not let me go. And now I feels him near 
 me always. When I rise up in the morning, I says, 
 ' What'll he send me to.day ? ' and whatever it is, sorrow 
 or joy, I knows it comes from him, and that makes my 
 happiness." 
 
 " God bless you ! " said Felix Gold, softly, with 
 shining eyes, as the man sat down. 
 
 " It's all true," said an old woman in a quavering
 
 WHAT IS THIS POWER 1 H5 
 
 voice " all true, bless the Lord ! He's been my support 
 and consolation since I was sixteen, and now I'm past 
 eighty, and I couldn't live without him, not a minute. 
 It's all true, and more besides, bless the Lord ! " 
 
 " God bless you ! Christ is here ! " said Felix 
 Gold. 
 
 A young man rose next a stalwart young fellow, 
 with a frank, open face. " It's pretty hard for a man 
 in my position to do right, straight along," he said. 
 " It's not only that he's got to keep down his sinful 
 nature, which is always going back on him ; but a man 
 does like a little fun and some few pals; and if he's 
 squeamish about how he amuses himself, he'll have 
 precious little of either. And I am sure I'd have gone 
 under long ago, if I hadn't found Jesus ; but with him 
 for a friend, I can do without others." 
 
 " God bless you, brother ! Now let us sing Hymn 
 29," said Felix Gold. " ' What a friend we have in 
 Jesus ! ' " 
 
 Cyril's hand was over his eyes. It was not any one 
 thing that had been said, but the hushed, clear voices, 
 rude and uneducated, yet with a thrill in them which 
 could have been taught by no refinement save that of 
 the Spirit this it was that had so moved him. He 
 had gone much among the poor and lowly ; he had 
 believed that he had long ago rid himself of all super- 
 cilious superiority toward them on account of any ad- 
 vantages that might have been given to him. His birth, 
 his social standing, his education, and his knowledge
 
 116 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 of that higher, finer morality, which we call refinement 
 all had been to him but implements for use in the 
 Master's vineyard. The poorest, the most ignorant, 
 the weakest and most vile, had been welcome to him ; 
 but his traditions of prayer and praise had been those 
 of the Book of Common Prayer, stately in rhythm, 
 noble in language, exalted in sentiment ; this exalta- 
 tion of common speech, this hushing and refining of 
 uncultured voices, under the sweet influence of the 
 Spirit, was altogether new to him. 
 
 When he looked up again Felix Gold was speaking. 
 
 " Our advertisement says that we have now healing 
 of sickness," he said, " and surely he who can heal us 
 is here to-night. We have felt his presence and know 
 that he is here. Are there any among us who wish to 
 be healed?" 
 
 A woman came forward and knelt before him. He 
 laid his hands for a moment upon her veiled head, then 
 he said : " My brothers and sisters, there is only one 
 sickness in the world, and that is sin. If there were no 
 sin, there would be no sickness. Jesus Christ can heal 
 your sin, therefore he can also heal your sickness ; but 
 he can only cure your body through your soul. If you 
 take medicine for your body and let your soul alone, 
 you may be cured for a time, but the disease will 
 surely return; but if you cure the body through the 
 soul, you are whole forever. This poor woman is sin- 
 sick, sorrow-sick, and body-sick. Let us pray to the 
 Eternal Father, who sent his Son to be the physician
 
 WHAT IS THIS POWER f U7 
 
 of soul and body, that he will heal her sin, her sorrow, 
 and her suffering." 
 
 He lifted his hands to heaven and prayed fervently, 
 but there was little enthusiasm in the congregation; 
 they listened with respectful attention, but that was all ; 
 and no other went forward for healing, though there 
 were forms and faces there betraying their need of it. 
 As the woman turned to go to her seat, Cyril saw her 
 face. It was that of one who must once have had 
 much of the beaute de diaUe; now it bore deep traces 
 of many passions, among which hysteria was perhaps 
 the most innocent. It was very pale, and there were 
 tears on the long, black lashes ; but there was upon it 
 a quiet restfulness, which suggested to the beholder as 
 his first thought, " He has, at all events, insured her a 
 good night's sleep ! " 
 
 Felix Gold was standing at the door as they with- 
 drew, infusing cheer and hope into every one by his 
 bright face, cordial grasp of the hand, and his " God 
 bless you ! Come again ! " Cyril remained quietly in 
 his seat until the rest had departed ; then the strange 
 man came up with a greeting as to an old friend, 
 
 " You have tarried," he said. " Why ? " 
 
 Cyril shook his head. " I can scarcely tell you why 
 I am here now," he replied, " unless Do you believe 
 in special inspiration I mean to special acts in what 
 are called providential leadings ? " 
 
 Felix Gold surveyed him with a smile, half amused, 
 half tender.
 
 118 FKOM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " At least," he said, " you did not change your coat 
 before you came. That was brave of you, brother." 
 
 Cyril glanced at the sleeve of his straight-cut black 
 broadcloth, and then met his interlocutor's eyes frankly 
 and sweetly. " To tell you the truth," he said, " I 
 thought of doing so. Why not, if I did not wish to be 
 known as a clergyman ? " 
 
 Felix Gold laughed outright a soft, rich laugh, full 
 of music. 
 
 " Shall I tell you what has kept you away ? " he 
 said. " Just that same coat that is all. God said to 
 your heart : ' This servant of mine has a message for 
 you ; he does not himself know as yet what it is ; but 
 when you ask him he will know.' And the coat says 
 and the high waistcoat and the collar that button be- 
 hind these all say : ' The man is heretic ; he is not of 
 our Church ; he is not priest, as we are ; how can he 
 have message for us? And so I say it was brave of you, 
 my brother, to bring them along to hear the message." 
 
 Cyril colored deeply; but before he could reply, 
 Felix Gold went on : " Come home with us ; we talk 
 more comfortably there. This is my wife. Miranda, 
 my dear love, this is our brother, who will come to us 
 whenever he will ; we need no other name for him." 
 
 " I brought my name along as well as my coat," said 
 Cyril, laughing. " It is Cyril Deane, and I am not a 
 priest as yet, Mr. Gold, only a deacon ; and I am assist- 
 ant at the Church of the Transfiguration." 
 
 " Church of England? I took you for a Catholic
 
 WHAT IS THIS POWER? H9 
 
 priest," said Felix Gold, with amusement. " You see, it 
 is but the type I am sure of ; the variety, he escape me." 
 
 His English was more imperfect, Cyril noticed, in 
 conversation than in his formal address ; but the young 
 man stood like a rebuked school-boy, waiting the pleas- 
 ure of this singular person, who now busied himself in 
 turning out the lights and locking up the building. 
 
 Meanwhile Cyril felt himself compelled, in courtesy, 
 to make some remark to Mrs. Gold, his first emotion in 
 regard to whom had been one of distinct disappoint- 
 ment. To begin with, she was decidedly homely ; worse 
 than that she was commonplace ; " one of the people " 
 was written upon every inch of her square figure and 
 uninteresting face. Cyril hardly knew how to address 
 her ; he was a little tete exaltee, perhaps, and not in a 
 mood to talk about the weather ; yet how to choose a 
 loftier topic with this woman. She looked up in his 
 face at the moment, and he saw that she had very soft, 
 pleasant blue eyes ; her voice, too, was sweet and gentle. 
 
 " I am glad you told him your name," she said ; 
 " it pleased him." 
 
 " I was pleased to tell him," said Cyril ; " he is a 
 very wonderful man." 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " she said, quietly, but with conviction. 
 Then her husband joined them, and slipped her arm 
 through his own, while a glance passed between them 
 of utter love and trust, so entirely the same on each 
 face as to absorb all differences of intellect or external 
 appearance, into absolute mysterious oneness.
 
 120 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 Cyril walked on upon the other side of his host in 
 the perfect silence which at the moment his soul re- 
 quired ; and there was no conventional necessity for 
 conversation laid upon him by these two. Their home 
 was poor and commonplace enough three rooms in an 
 ugly red-brick dwelling ; it had cheap furniture and 
 tawdry pictures ; but there was a canary asleep on top of 
 the frame of the most unattractive of these, and a wood- 
 en stand of luxuriant-looking flowers at the window. 
 
 Miranda shook hands kindly with her guest as soon 
 as they entered. " Good-night," she said ; " be sure to 
 come to see us whenever you like." 
 
 Her husband looked after her tenderly as she left 
 the room. " I am glad you are not a Catholic priest," 
 he said, with a bright, sudden glance at Cyril. " My 
 Miranda is so dear to me, that I should grieve if you so 
 place yourself that the other half of your soul may not 
 come to you." 
 
 " Are you talking poetry or in earnest ? " asked Cyril, 
 smiling. 
 
 " But is not poetry earnest ? " said Felix Gold. 
 " my brother, be free be free ! Shake off these 
 chains of conventionality ! " 
 
 " Chains ? " asked Cyril, inquiringly. 
 
 " Chains ! fetters ! shackles ! " said his host, hurried- 
 ly. " Why, man, you are bound hand and foot, and you 
 know it not ! Have you not asked if I believe in provi- 
 dential leadings ? You do yes ! but your chains will 
 not let you own it. And now you sneer ; you speak of
 
 WHAT IS THIS POWER! 121 
 
 poetry, and ask am I in earnest. Think you the good 
 Father will create a lonely soul ? Find each other ? 
 Not always in this life ! Mistake another for the one ? 
 Very often ; but he makes them for each other ! my 
 brother, be free ! " 
 
 Cyril felt thrown back upon himself ; it was scarcely 
 this he had come for, or so he thought. 
 
 " You are very kind " he began, in an embarrassed 
 manner. 
 
 " Stay ! " said Felix Gold. 
 
 He rose and stood over his guest ; there was no 
 smile upon his face now ; instead thereof, an awful au- 
 thority. 
 
 " You own," he said, " that I have a message, a work 
 to do for you ; you long to pour out your soul to me. 
 What forbids you? The devil of form and custom. 
 You will not break the chains ? But I say you shall ! 
 In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, I bid you cast 
 them from you and be free. Speak what you came to 
 speak ; tell out the need of your soul ! " 
 
 His dark eyes, luminous with a strange light, awful 
 in purity and selfless holiness, turned full upon those 
 of Cyril ; his hand was outstretched. 
 
 For a moment there was absolute stillness ; then a 
 strange, joyous strength his own, yet not his own 
 lifted the young man to his feet, and placed his hand in 
 that strong, dark palm. 
 
 " I came to learn of you," he said. 
 
 " Yes," said Felix Gold, smiling. His eyes were gen-
 
 122 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 tie and loving, his voice soft and tender ; he kept a firm 
 hold of the hand in his own. 
 
 " What is this power of yours this strange power ? " 
 
 " It is the power of God," said Felix Gold. 
 
 " Is it not something not more not less There ! 
 you see I do not myself know what I wish to ask." 
 
 " Why do you ask ? For whose sake ? " 
 
 " For my own and the world's, and that of one be- 
 sides. They tell me I have this power. I do not know ; 
 it is nothing beside yours." 
 
 " Who tells you ? " asked Felix Gold. 
 
 " A man you may have heard of him Fritz Her- 
 mann ; he is a spiritualist, a mesmerist. There is a girl 
 over whom he has great power. I should have come to 
 you long ago to learn how to break her chains, but 
 And now he has returned, and she is faster bound than 
 ever." He loosed his hold of the kind hand, sank into 
 a chair, and covered his face. 
 
 " Yes, yes," said Felix Gold, tenderly ; " when they 
 suffer for our sins, these poor little ones, that is very 
 hard. But courage, brother ! is she not in His hands? " 
 
 It was not difficult, now, for Cyril to tell him all the 
 story. He could have told it to no one else, but this 
 man was so ready to hear ; he understood of it more than 
 Cyril himself ! When it was ended he paused for he 
 had listened, walking to and fro the small, poor room 
 and laid his two hands upon Cyril's shoulders. 
 
 " Courage, brother ! " he said ; " you will save her 
 yet ay, and that poor, aged, sinful soul as well. But
 
 WHAT IS THIS POWER! 123 
 
 not for their sakes only were you sent hither. You have 
 a message for me as well as I for you ! Behind all that 
 you have told me I see dimly a glorious hope for the 
 world : a new gospel, and yet the old ; a glad tidings of 
 great joy which we shall find together ! Go now to 
 your home ; sleep and be strong ; for sorrow may endure 
 for a night, but joy cometh in the morning ! "
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 THE FORGIVENESS OF SINS. 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " CORRECTLY CENTRALIZED." 
 
 "MR DEANE." 
 
 " What's up now ? " thought Cyril, boyishly enough. 
 " When the rector says, ' Mr. Deane,' matters are serious." 
 
 Cyril was looking pale. He had been three times to 
 call upon Meta and her grandmother, and had been three 
 times, upon some trifling pretext, refused admission, 
 since the evening of the gospel meeting. He felt that 
 he had made some mistake, he must have made some 
 terrible mistake, to be so hindered ; and the thought of 
 Meta sweet, fragile, confiding Meta whom in his self- 
 ish dread of pain for himself he had avoided, would not 
 leave him. The touch of her clinging hands upon his, 
 the look in her brown eyes Ah ! if he had been brave, 
 if he had fought for her regardless what wounds he 
 gained in the battle ; if he had set her free, was it not 
 possible that her heart would have turned to him of 
 its own sweet choice ? For, though he might shrink 
 from pain, Cyril was not one to take a morbid or dis-
 
 "CORRECTLY CENTRALIZED." 125 
 
 torted view of anything. Meta might tell herself that 
 it was her duty to be true to Arthur ; Cyril did not 
 fancy anything so absurd. 
 
 Perhaps all of us believe more or less when we are 
 young and laugh at when we are older the theory of 
 counterparts, of dual souls, which Felix Gold had ad- 
 vocated so strongly. Perhaps none of us would have 
 the courage to advance the formal thesis, the birth of 
 twin souls from the dual nature of the Godhead, 
 which theosophy calls our "Father-Mother." It is 
 odd, by-the-by, that theosophy does not believe in dual 
 souls at all, but holds that the difference of sex is 
 merely external ; that the same soul must pass through 
 both male and female incarnations. And yet this is 
 not, upon longer consideration, so very odd ; for theos- 
 ophy does not hold that man is made in the image of 
 the Creator, who created them male and female. 
 
 Leaving this domain of metaphysics the unknow- 
 able it is very certain that a large majority of human 
 souls are still too undeveloped to demand a real coun- 
 terpart, another self. Of those that remain, a large 
 part mistake a transient congeniality for real sympathy, 
 and make unhappy marriages ; some few find the miss- 
 ing half of themselves, and live a perfect life. But as 
 it would be impossible to prove that the true mate of 
 every soul exists somewhere, so it would be equally im- 
 possible to disprove it; and the theory will therefore 
 remain until the end of time as the solace of the lonely, 
 and the glory of all true lovers. But what is very cer-
 
 126 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 tain and can be defended is this : that many marriages 
 are due not to love, but to a simulacrum or pale shadow 
 of it, more or less allied to hypnotism, mesmerism, or 
 magnetic influence, as we choose to call it. In fact, 
 this does not need proof ; it is conceded by the numer- 
 ous proverbs relating to the one who loves and the one 
 who is loved ; the one who kisses and the one who holds 
 the cheek. 
 
 This latter is by no means always a woman ; men 
 are as apt to be hypnotized into marrying one whom 
 they do not really love as are women ; not more apt, 
 however. But it remained for a woman to detect this 
 state of things, and to pronounce that " no good man 
 would marry a woman unless he thought himself the 
 best man whom she could possibly marry." Cyril lifted 
 even this to higher ground. It would have been by far 
 the easiest way out of the difficulty to make vehement 
 love to Meta, and marry her out of hand ; but he was 
 no sultan, he said scornfully, to own a slave ; one, too, 
 unjustly manacled and given over to his power by the 
 will of another. So used, would she ever be truly free ? 
 Nay, is a slave-owner a freeman ? Would not both he 
 and she sink from depth to depth of slavery and degra- 
 dation, until He did not dare to think of it ! 
 
 " You can never be sure that she is the one for you," 
 Felix Gold had said, " until she, knowing, ruling, un- 
 derstanding her own self, tells you so ; but far enough is 
 she now from that, my brother. Only the strong, free 
 soul can hold so steadily the mirror of the heart, that the
 
 "CORRECTLY CENTRALIZED." 127 
 
 face of the loved shines out from its surface unbroken 
 and undimmed by haste or passion. And until you 
 learn that she loves you, you can not know if you love 
 her truly ; for love is not two, but one." 
 
 " You are wrong there, Gold," Cyril had said, half 
 sadly, half amused ; " wrong, even admitting your theory 
 of twin souls. For, bound and fettered as she is, may 
 not I love my other self, though she fail to recognize 
 me?" 
 
 " It may be so," the other said, thoughtfully. " Ah, 
 how sad, when they whom He created male and female, 
 each for the other, meet and pass by ! Yet even then, 
 brother, there is heaven before you, where you will 
 meet again." 
 
 It was small wonder, therefore, that, with a nature so 
 passionately craving sympathy, and suffering so keenly, 
 Cyril should have gone often to the mission, or that 
 Felix Gold should have become his frequent companion. 
 There were great differences of taste, sentiment, and 
 education, but beneath all these a bond far stronger 
 united them. He did not always indorse all that Gold 
 said, in prayer or address ; yet always, when he came to 
 ponder over it, difference proved more suggestive than 
 unanimity : it was but a door, as he himself had said, 
 into a deeper truth than he had known or been able to 
 believe in. 
 
 Of disapproval of his course he had felt tolerably 
 sure ; but, when informed of his first visit to the mis- 
 sion, the rector had been only amused and a trifle sar-
 
 128 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 castic. Now, however, Cyril was aware that something 
 worse awaited him. 
 
 " I understand, Mr. Deane, that you made an ad- 
 dress last night at that wretched place." 
 
 " I did speak a few words, sir, at the Nineteenth- 
 Century Mission. I am sorry if you disapprove. I 
 thought you promoted intercourse with the other 
 churches ? " 
 
 " You don't call that a church, I hope ! " said Dr. 
 Lydgate. " A lot of crazy fanatics ! I thought you 
 had better sense." 
 
 " Have you had personal experience of their fanati- 
 cism, doctor ? " 
 
 " Doesn't the man profess to work miracles ? Answer 
 me that." 
 
 " Well, it depends on what you call a miracle. He 
 is curing one woman, for I have seen it myself. She 
 comes regularly, night after night, and there is a per- 
 ceptible change in her." 
 
 " One woman ! Humph ! " 
 
 " If he were an impostor, doctor, it would be a thou- 
 sand and one." 
 
 " Oh ! I don't say he is a willful impostor," said Dr. 
 Lydgate ; " I say he is a crazy fanatic, though he may, of 
 course, have a certain power over nervous diseases a 
 kind of magnetism, you know." 
 
 " Yes," said Cyril, " that's just what I think it is 
 a kind of magnetism. We are trying to find out what 
 kind."
 
 "CORRECTLY CENTRALIZED." 129 
 
 " That's your fad," said the doctor. " But I want 
 you to give it up, Deane. Eeally, it is scarcely respect- 
 able, and is likely to do great harm to the Church." 
 
 " The Episcopal Church ? " said Cyril, puzzled. 
 
 " The Church of the Transfiguration," said the 
 doctor. 
 
 " Oh ! " said Cyril. 
 
 " Yes, people are beginning to talk," said the doctor, 
 " and I must say I can't blame 'em. Besides that, if it 
 gets to the ears of the bishop or the standing com- 
 mittee, it will knock the bottom out of your ordina- 
 tion, young man ! You want to be careful until that's 
 over." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Cyril, " it wouldn't be more honest 
 would it, sir ? to let them see just what kind of a wolf 
 I am before they put a sheepskin on me ? " 
 
 " Well, that depends on how you look at it," said 
 the rector. " It might not pay best, if you wanted the 
 sheepskin ; and it isn't the usual course or else their 
 peculiarities don't develop so young." 
 
 " I see," said Cyril. " Well, then, sir, let me under- 
 stand you fully. You positively forbid my going to 
 this place?" 
 
 " If you choose to put it so yes." 
 
 " And on the ground that they are schismatical ? " 
 said Cyril, with what the French call malice. 
 
 " Now, come, Deane, you know I care precious little 
 for that sort of thing. I should keep you within bounds 
 until your ordination, for your own sake, because, as I
 
 130 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 tell you, we've got a High-Church bishop and standing 
 committee. But, after that, if you choose to go in for 
 evangelical alliances and the Church Universal and 
 that, and have the stamina to fight it out all right ! 
 But this sort of thing why, it's all confounded hum- 
 bug, and you know it is ! " cried the rector, with some 
 excitement. 
 
 " Do you object to Gold coming to my rooms in the 
 church ? " asked Cyril. 
 
 ." Nonsense ! You're not a baby ; and I haven't time 
 to regulate all your companions, though I must say 
 that I should be better pleased, and you'd be better off, 
 if you wasted no more time on him." 
 
 " I shall try not to waste my time on any one," said 
 Cyril, quietly, " and I will not go to the mission again, 
 sir, without forewarning you." 
 
 " Without forewarning your grandmother ! " said the 
 rector, inelegantly but forcibly. "Look here, Deane, 
 what maggot have you got in your head, hey ? " 
 
 " That is what I ask myself continually, Dr. Lyd- 
 gate. I am coming to something, of that I feel very 
 sure ; but what it is, I can not tell you, or myself 
 either." 
 
 " Coming to ? What nonsense ! " 
 
 " Well, sir," said Cyril, " that's what I say to myself 
 too, and yet I believe in it just the same." 
 
 "Believe in what?" 
 
 " I hardly know, sir." 
 
 The rector surveyed him for a moment, half quiz-
 
 "CORRECTLY CENTRALIZED." 
 
 zically, yet with real anxiety ; then he said, " If you 
 can speak plain English, Deane, I wish you'd oblige me 
 by doing so now." 
 
 Cyril smiled. " You see, it's all very hazy to me yet, 
 Dr. Lydgate, and it's rough on a man to call upon him 
 to define his faith, perhaps to suffer for it, when it's 
 still in embryo. However, I'll try to take you as far as 
 I've gone myself." 
 
 " Humph ! " said Dr. Lydgate. 
 
 Cyril smiled, and the golden lights danced mis- 
 chievously in his blue eyes ; there was a stimulating 
 quality in his rector's sarcastic disapproval, and the real 
 affection and sympathy that underlay it. 
 
 " Well," he said, " it's true enough that you don't 
 know the end of a road till you get there. Mine may 
 lead to the dogs, but I hope not." 
 
 " Oh, I hope not, too," said the rector. " Well ? " 
 
 " Well, to begin with, doctor, what's your opinion of 
 Simon Magus ? " 
 
 " Proto-humbug, and inventor of simony ! " 
 
 " But if he had been a thorough, all-around humbug, 
 would he have needed to invent simony ? Would he 
 have thrown away his money on the purchase of a thing 
 that he could simulate ? " 
 
 " Yes, I know that rhetorical figure," said the doc- 
 tor ; " interrogation, don't they call it ? Go on." 
 
 " Well, it's a more deferential form of argument," 
 replied Cyril. " But about Simon. I dare say there 
 was humbug in it, you know ; that speaking image of
 
 132 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 Nero, which tradition says he made, was very probably 
 pure ventriloquism " 
 
 " The image ? " 
 
 " No, sir, the speaking. But the fact that he wanted 
 to buy the miracle-working power of the apostles, shows 
 that he must have believed it to be a real thing, and 
 that would go to prove that he must have had some 
 power of his own of a real kind, that was not humbug 
 or imposture." 
 
 " But see here," said the rector, " you are all abroad 
 on one point. "What he wanted to buy was not the 
 speaking with tongues, or the healing power, but the 
 ability to impart the same to others. 'Give me also 
 this power, that on whomsoever I lay hands he may 
 receive the Holy Ghost.' " 
 
 " That's true, and it's very striking," said Cyril. " It 
 fits into my mosaic somewhere, doctor, though I can't 
 say just where at present. Thank you. As yet, you 
 know, I am only collecting my bits of marble." 
 
 " "Well, your idea is that Simon's real power was 
 magnetic what there was of it ? " asked Dr. Lydgate. 
 
 " Using magnetism as a convenient symbol for de- 
 noting something we do not yet understand," said the 
 young deacon. " Yes, sir. Looking through the Bible 
 and history, I do not see how we can escape admitting 
 the existence of some power of the kind." 
 
 " Moral, or physical ? " 
 
 " Well, that is what I can not get at, sir quite. 
 They say, now, that hypnotism is purely a moral in-
 
 "CORRECTLY CENTRALIZED." 133 
 
 fluence that is, is exercised by the moral nature of one 
 person upon the moral nature of another. But it seems 
 restricted to certain temperaments, and even certain 
 states of health in those temperaments ; so I should call 
 it physical also." 
 
 " Why, Max Miiller proves or thinks he does that 
 all our concepts are formed by means of the senses. 
 Nihil in intellectu quod non prius in sensu. So, 
 conversely, it may be that a moral influence must act 
 through the physical nature, and be more or less modi- 
 fied by the character of the medium through which it 
 passes." 
 
 " Eef racted ! " said Cyril, thoughtfully. " You've 
 given me another bit, doctor." 
 
 " Bit ? Yes, you are pretty badly bit," said Dr. 
 Lydgate. 
 
 " I don't mind, if I'm not poisoned," said Cyril, 
 cheerfully. " There were two serpents, you know, doc- 
 tor; the sting of one was healing and of the other 
 death. By-the-by, I wonder if that isn't like my 
 good and bad magnetism ? " 
 
 " You Eosicrucian ! " said the doctor. " Really, 
 Deane, you must not let this thing run away with your 
 common sense, you know. Every one knows that there 
 is such a thing as animal magnetism, and such a thing 
 as moral influence, good or bad ; but when you go to 
 twisting those plain facts into all sorts of mysticism " 
 
 " Don't you think, sir, that the world is crying out 
 for mysticism just now? Isn't that the meaning of
 
 134 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 all this to-do over faith-cures, mind-cures, spiritualism, 
 theosophy, and all the rest of it ? And, if so, would it 
 not be a good thing, if there is a scientific Christian 
 thaumaturgy, for the Church to discover it and preach 
 it?" 
 
 " Well, it might be better than to preach it first and 
 discover it afterward, which is how you began," said the 
 doctor. 
 
 " Oh ! yes, I admit that was unwise, or at least I 
 could not help it. It was a fit of inspiration. By-the- 
 by, doctor, what do I mean by that? What is inspi- 
 ration ? " 
 
 " Come, now, I'll tell you what it isn't" said the 
 doctor. " It isn't ' can't help.' ' Can't help ' is intoxica- 
 tion, like the Pythia, for example, or a priest of Bac- 
 chus. Inspiration measures the temple with a reed." 
 
 " Thank you again," said Cyril. " I see ! It is the 
 transforming, the renewing of one's mind to that degree 
 that a man need not settle beforehand what to say, be- 
 cause he can safely trust his impulses." 
 
 "Just so; but until a man's nature is so trans- 
 formed, he can't trust his impulses, and therefore do 
 you keep a strict hand over yours. There's the hum- 
 bug of it, Deane; these faith-cure people, and fanat- 
 ics generally, try to imitate the wonderful works of 
 the apostles, while they are miles away from their char- 
 acter. And, after all, it is character that is the main 
 gift of the Holy Spirit. You can't speak with tongues 
 one minute and speak ill of your neighbor the next;
 
 "CORRECTLY CENTRALIZED." 135 
 
 nor caa you cure a man's physical ills and scorn him 
 for his spiritual complaints at the same time." 
 
 " Is that why our Lord so often began a physical 
 cure with ' Thy sins be forgiven thee ' ? " said Cyril. 
 
 " No doubt it is one reason," said the rector. 
 
 " I suppose it's the subjective side," returned Cyril. 
 " Objectively, the disease is a consequence of sin, and 
 therefore " 
 
 " Oh, go away, do ! " said the rector ; " my head is 
 going around like a top ! " 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Cyril, rising ; " but I want to ask you 
 just one thing more, doctor: This good magnetism, 
 personal influence, or whatever it is, that comes from 
 the transforming of the whole nature, or, as theoso- 
 phists say, the polarizing of the cells " 
 
 " Moral cells ? " asked the doctor, severely. 
 
 " I see ! " said Cyril. " Suppose we say the polariz- 
 ing of the will, then, doctor. For " 
 
 " Polarize ! polarize ! " said the doctor ; " think 
 clearly, now, Deane ; define your terms as you go along. 
 What do you mean by polarizing the will ? " 
 
 " That's pretty hard to define, even on the physical 
 plane," said Cyril. " Take a compass-needle, now ; that 
 is polarized, and so points to the north pole." 
 
 " And the north pole of the earth points to the 
 north pole of the heavens," said the doctor ; " and the 
 north pole of the heavens points There ! don't you 
 see, you land yourself in a quagmire ? " 
 
 " May be we began at the wrong end," said Cyril.
 
 136 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " The earth's magnetism is really gravitation, you know, 
 and gravitation tends toward the center. So, perhaps 
 centralization of the will is the proper term. Find the 
 center and fix it ; then the poles are free to determine 
 themselves." 
 
 " Do you call a compass-needle free ? " 
 
 " A good deal freer than a sewing-needle, doctor." 
 
 " Well, well, I've no fault to find with your centrali- 
 zation. In fact, it is rather striking; for, as the action 
 and reaction of celestial bodies are measured from their 
 centers, so the centralization of a human will implies its 
 relation to another, a Divine Will." 
 
 " And to all other human wills," said Cyril. " Yes ; 
 and then the poles that is, the outward phenomena, 
 the bent of character, as we call it results inevitably, 
 and the orbit determines itself. Well, considering the 
 number of wills self-centred, I do not wonder that we 
 clash occasionally." 
 
 "Now you think you've made a great discovery," 
 said Dr. Lydgate. " But don't you see that everybody 
 has known it all along ? " 
 
 " I don't believe one can hope to make a new dis- 
 covery in theology," said Cyril, thoughtfully, " but it 
 would be a great thing to state the old truths in the 
 new scientific language. And I am very much obliged 
 to you, doctor, for reining me in so short about polariza- 
 tion." 
 
 " Well," said Dr. Lydgate, " young people think that 
 old people are fools ; but old people know Will you
 
 "CORRECTLY CENTRALIZED." 137 
 
 have the kindness to go away, by-the-by ? you may not 
 realize it, but I have a sermon to write." 
 
 " I'm gone, sir. It's very striking ; inspiration is a 
 transforming of the whole man, such a rearrangment of 
 every particle of his moral nature as takes place in the 
 physical molecules of a bar of iron which has been 
 what we call magnetized. There are natural or electric 
 magnets. But this magnetization is usually produced 
 by contact with some other electrified body, and really 
 consists in a determination of the center in relation to 
 which the molecules are to rearrange themselves. This 
 center is the source of power and of freedom. Only 
 when the will is properly centralized is it really free, 
 because only then can it find its proper attitude and 
 orbit in relation to the central Divine "Will. The fun- 
 damental error of theosophy is that it does not recog- 
 nize this Divine Center as a Personal Will, which, how- 
 ever, can alone attract, electrify, or magnetize our per- 
 sonal wills. It all seems very simple and familiar 
 doesn't it, Dr. Lydgate ? " 
 
 " Good-morning," said the doctor. 
 
 " Oh, good-morning ! " said Cyril, laughing. " But 
 what I have been trying to get at is just this : the apos- 
 tles did not know anything of polarization or gravity, 
 did they, nor of magnetism, as such ? " 
 
 " Probably not." 
 
 " Yet there was in themselves some mysterious force, 
 which included the power of working miracles " 
 
 " Of one sort or other," said the doctor ; " gifts of
 
 138 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 healing, speaking with tongues, or the interpretation of 
 tongues." 
 
 " Yes, sir ; thanks once more. This force really it 
 ought to have a name of its own ; good magnetism is 
 too vague they were able to communicate to others by 
 the laying on of hands ; and it was this ability which 
 Simon Magus desired to purchase." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Well, sir ; then wherever this force I'll find a 
 name for it some day ! wherever this force is found, 
 this power to transform others into its own likeness 
 there is the true apostolic succession." 
 
 " And what would your friend Bennet Lane say to 
 that ? " 
 
 " Why, I think he would say, ' In that case, you 
 may as well ask your friend Gold to preach for you.' " 
 
 " But well ! the beauty of that sort of apostolic 
 succession is that it isn't dependent upon historic or 
 documentary evidence ; it proves itself," said Dr. Lyd- 
 gate. " But you must make up your mind to be con- 
 tent with it, and to take your orders direct from the 
 Almighty, sir ; for, as long as we have our present good 
 bishop, if you get your name up for eccentricities of 
 that sort it will be all the ordination you'll get." 
 
 " I will try to be careful, sir." 
 
 " Careful to be right, and sure that you are willing 
 and able to fight it out ; that's all," said Dr. Lydgate. 
 
 " Correctly centralized ! " said Cyril, as he shook his 
 rector's hand.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE POWER OF GOD. 
 
 THE rector's house was not adjoining the church, 
 but up a street and around two or three corners. As 
 Cyril turned the first of these, he came face to face with 
 Nina Lydgate, who paused a moment to say, with the 
 new sedateness that had come upon her, "There is a 
 little boy waiting in your study, Mr. Deane, if you were 
 going directly there." 
 
 " I am, thank you, Miss Nina," he said. 
 
 " I met him on the street," she continued ; " he 
 seemed a little bewildered, and, as I happened to have 
 the vestry key, I let him into the church. Then I was 
 to see if you were still with papa, or where you had 
 gone, and let him know; but I am glad to have met 
 you." 
 
 He stood still for a moment and watched her walk 
 briskly away with a light, springy step. " How wom- 
 anly and graceful she has grown," thought Cyril, " and 
 how neatly she is dressed ! " 
 
 At this moment Nina looked back, saw him still 
 standing, and paused half -turned he started, touched
 
 140 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 his hat with a hasty motion, and hurried away. " That 
 was stupid of me," he thought. 
 
 Yes, it was stupid ; but men are, have been, and will 
 be to the end of time stupid where women are concerned. 
 And Nina, who had been a child so recently, had been 
 suddenly lifted up to the eternal heights of womanhood 
 by Cyril's shamefaced rebuke upon the day of his first 
 meeting with Meta Leonard. Now, she hurried on to- 
 ward the rectory with a flush upon her cheeks, sparkling 
 eyes, and lips a little apart. 
 
 " I wonder what he could have looked back for ? " 
 said Nina to herself, smiling just a little. 
 
 In the study a great arm-chair seemed laughing va- 
 cantly to itself at the tiny, wizened figure that perched 
 upon its edge. 
 
 " Hugh ! " said the young deacon. 
 
 It was a shock ; he sat down rather hastily, wiped 
 his brow, and breathed hard, as if he had been running. 
 " Is any one is there any trouble ? " he said. 
 
 " Grandma's dying," the boy said, quietly, as though 
 it were an every-day occurrence ; " and she wants you 
 to come and save her soul." 
 
 " And your sister ? " 
 
 " Oh ! she's well ; she's giving a seance this after- 
 noon." 
 
 " While your grandmother lies dying ? " 
 
 " Oh ! she isn't dying any more to-day than she was 
 yesterday, only she thinks she is ; or that is what Fritz
 
 THE POWER OF GOD. 
 
 says," said the child with that air of the purely com- 
 monplace which suited so oddly with the character of 
 his message. " I climbed out of her window to come 
 for you, and you must come in that way. Fritz would 
 be angry if he saw you." 
 
 Cyril rose heavily ; it all seemed hopeless enough, 
 but at least he was to go to her house he must go 
 and if all were true that had been said of his power 
 over her his eyes kindled. 
 
 " We won't go in at any windows, Hugh," he said ; 
 " I'm not afraid of this terrible Fritz." 
 
 " Well, he'll be in the study, anyway," said Hugh, 
 philosophically ; " he doesn't hear much when he's with 
 the spirits." 
 
 The front door to which they bent their steps was 
 fast closed, as Cyril had never before seen it, as it stood 
 only upon occasions such as this. Hugh pushed it 
 open, and led the way to his grandmother's room, where 
 old Nastasia sat, clasping her knees, and rocking herself 
 back and forth upon the floor, silently but ceaselessly, 
 with her gleaming eyes fixed upon her mistress. 
 
 " He's come, grandmamma." 
 
 Hugh's clear, childish tones were a strange contrast 
 to the terrible cry that followed. 
 
 " For God's sake ! Oh, for God's sake ! Save me ! 
 save me ! " 
 
 She sat huddled up together upon the bed ; whether 
 she mocked Nastasia, or Nastasia her, it would have 
 been hard to tell, but the attitude of each seemed a
 
 142 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 hideous burlesque of the other. She flung herself to- 
 ward Cyril, and, her strength failing her, lay prone 
 upon the scarlet coverlet, her hand grasping the edge 
 of his coat. " You have killed me ! " she said. " Save 
 me ! save me ! " 
 
 He lifted her gently and laid her upon her pillows, 
 with wonderful tenderness. "Killed you?" he said, 
 smiling upon her, and smoothing away the gray elf- 
 locks from her brow. 
 
 " Hush ! Do you not remember what you said ? 
 Hush ! for God's sake, do not say it again ! I can not 
 forget it; it weighs upon me night and day. 'Action 
 and reaction are always equal ; as I had power over 
 them on earth, they will have power over me ' my 
 God!" 
 
 " In hell," said Cyril, holding both her hands in 
 his, and looking with quiet power into her eyes. There 
 was neither plan nor forethought in what he did, but it 
 was given him in that hour what he should speak. Yet 
 all his heart, went out to her, as he saw how she shrank 
 and quivered under his words. 
 
 She did not shriek or moan ; only she lay still and 
 gazed upon him piteously. 
 
 " Yes, hell," he said again ; " but even if you have 
 made your place there, Mrs. Shryock, there is no reason 
 you should stay there, you know. Have you not heard 
 of Him who went thither, innocent, to bring life even 
 to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of 
 death?"
 
 THE POWER OF GOD. 143 
 
 Still, she only gazed upon him with those terrible 
 eyes. 
 
 " It was the dear Lord," he said ; " and, oh ! how 
 very dear he will be to you soon, when you go to your 
 own place I don't know where that is, nor you, but he 
 does and feel that you have no one left but him ; that 
 he is your only friend, and your sole way of escape." 
 
 " Will they call me up here ? " she said, hoarsely. 
 
 " I dare say they will try," he said ; " but DOK'T 
 COME ! " 
 
 " I can't refuse ! I can't refuse ! You said I had 
 made my own place." 
 
 " Did I say you must stay there ? You can refuse, 
 with the help of the Saviour ; perhaps you can persuade 
 your father and Henry to refuse also ; that would be a 
 good thing to do." 
 
 " But you said their power over me would be equal 
 to mine over them." 
 
 " But that was the death-power," said Cyril, with a 
 sudden illumination; "this is the life-power I mean, 
 and, ah ! how wonderful it is ! It is stronger than the 
 death-power, and drives it out always ; and it will grow 
 stronger, purer, brighter in you and in them, helping 
 each other, as you will, until it brings you all of you 
 into the very presence of God." 
 
 Her features relaxed, and the terrible look died out 
 of her eyes. 
 
 " Come, you're not going to die now, at all events," 
 continued Cyril, cheerily ; " you see, for some reason or
 
 144 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 other, this life-power is easier to get hold of on earth 
 I don't quite know why just yet and that seems to be 
 God's plan for you now to stay awhile and get this 
 good gift to take to them. Go to sleep now, and I will 
 see you again to-morrow." 
 
 Her eyes closed obediently ; but as Dives, after he 
 had prayed for himself, and had received, not the wa- 
 ter for which he asked, but the life-power, for which he 
 had not asked, not knowing thereof was able to pray 
 for his brethren so now this woman opened her eyes 
 again and prayed. 
 
 " Meta ! save Meta ! " 
 
 "Dat's so, marster," said Nastasia, coming toward 
 him. " You is done wuked a pow'ful wuk on ole 
 miss ; now save dat blessed lamb, what ain't got no 
 other friend but you an' de dear Saviour." 
 
 Without answering word or sign, Cyril left the 
 room. His face was white, his eyes shone strangely, 
 he did not feel the ground beneath his feet, and though 
 he had never entered the study, he went unhesitatingly 
 to its door and laid his hand upon the latch. 
 
 As he did so, there was a sound within of the hasty 
 moving of chairs upon an uncarpeted floor then a 
 crash. He flung the door wide and entered hurriedly. 
 Upon a couch, beside the window, lay Meta Leonard, 
 in the white robe she had worn when first she laid in 
 his that sweet, slender hand that had thrilled him so 
 strangely. That little right hand was now under her 
 cheek he felt oddly glad to see it so protected ; her
 
 THE POWER OF GOD. 14.5 
 
 eyes were closed, her cheek very white, under the long, 
 dark lashes. Her face was like the face of the dead ; 
 there was neither life nor soul in it, nor, therefore, 
 peace ; there was no sorrow, there was not even pa- 
 tience; yet was her look not vacant nor unmeaning; 
 but she seemed the empty mold which had once held 
 a beautiful spirit. 
 
 The walls of the study were paneled in oak from 
 floor to ceiling; the floor was the same wood; there 
 was no furniture save the tall book-cases upon two sides 
 of the room, their glass doors lined with green baize, 
 the great arm-chairs of solid mahogany, and the huge, 
 square library table, which now lay upon its side, with 
 one of its massive legs broken short off. Around the 
 room, in various attitudes of fear or defiance, stood four 
 or five persons ; among them Cyril fixed his eyes upon 
 Fritz Hermann. 
 
 " You know that this is killing her ! " he said in a 
 low, intense voice ; " you know it is killing her, and you 
 persist in it. Why ? " 
 
 " What have you to do with her, that you ask ? " 
 sneered the other. His face was red and distorted by 
 agitation ; his strong white hands were clinched at his 
 sides. 
 
 Cyril looked steadily into his eyes. " That also you 
 know," he said, " so that you have no need to ask it. 
 Wake her." 
 
 The man gave a hoarse, short laugh. " I ? " he said ; 
 " but why, then, do you ask me ? You this gentleman 
 10
 
 146 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 of such strong powers oh ! I knew there was in the 
 house some perturbing element, but I thought it that 
 fool Merton " with a glance over Cyril's shoulder at 
 some one who had quietly appeared at the door ; " but 
 with thy hand upon the latch " he spoke, in his 
 angry agitation, his native tongue " thou man of so 
 great spiritistic powers which thou wilt not use ach ! 
 how they were frightened, perplexed, and angry, those 
 poor spirits ! They lifted the table and overturned it 
 broke it as it had been of straw. If thou hast such 
 power, wake her thyself." 
 
 Cyril's heart beat hot and fast, his eyes were dim, 
 the blood throbbed in his temples; he turned and 
 looked at Meta. In the midst of all the wrath and 
 excitement around her, how quietly she lay there! 
 Yet ' where was her spirit wandering ? His impulse 
 was, not to wake her, but to snatch her into his 
 arms, to carry her far away from them all, and then 
 ah ! it would be very tenderly that he would bid 
 her open her beautiful eyes and smile upon him. This 
 strange double power the life-power, or the death- 
 power what was it? Which should he use to wake 
 her ? He understood so dimly, so vaguely, the mighty 
 forces that lay within his grasp ! It was as a child with 
 its finger upon the small white knob whose pressure 
 can do what? launch a steamship, explode a mine 
 that shall carry a solid fortress high in air, or send a 
 word across the world that shall shatter an empire ! 
 
 " If thou hast such power," Fritz Hermann had
 
 THE POWER OF GOD. 147" 
 
 said. The form of the words recalled others. "If 
 thou art the Christ, come down from the cross." One 
 glance at the pale figure of his Master, and the blood 
 ceased to throb so madly, his eyes cleared, the life- 
 power thrilled again through every nerve. He looked 
 tenderly upon the white form on the couch ; then the 
 same glance rested upon Fritz Hermann's dark face. 
 " Saviour, forgive him, for he knows not what he does," 
 said Cyril Deane, quietly and aloud, looking steadily 
 into the eyes of the other. 
 
 The wrath died out from the dark face, giving place 
 to utter amazement. 
 
 " Wake her," said Cyril Deane. 
 
 The man stirred uneasily in his place; his eyes 
 wandered restlessly. 
 
 " I will not at your bidding," he said. 
 
 " No ; why should you ? "Wake her at the bidding 
 of your own conscience. You had no right to throw 
 her into that death-sleep " 
 
 " Am I a villain, to do aught against her own will ? 
 Ask these friends " 
 
 " I ask yourself," said Cyril ; " what will but yours 
 has she ? Wake her." 
 
 " Wake her thyself. I will not hinder." 
 
 "Did I make her sleep? For your own sake, 
 Friedrich Hermann, undo what you have done ; free 
 not her only, but yourself. Wake her.'* 
 
 " What is she to you ? Go ! leave us ; she will 
 presently awake of herself."
 
 148 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " What is she to me ? A child of the God of whom 
 I am the commissioned messenger. Fritz Hermann, 
 awaken her in the name of God ! " 
 
 His voice was not loud, but low and intensely clear ; 
 his eyes so full of light that their color was indistin- 
 guishable ; he seemed suddenly to have grown taller; 
 his right hand was raised and extended, palm outward, 
 toward Fritz Hermann, in menace or blessing who 
 could say ? For yet a moment the man held out, then 
 slowly, unwillingly, he looked up up to meet those 
 radiant eyes. Then a pause the eyes did not drop 
 nor falter ; there was a hush upon the room that might 
 be felt ; until 
 
 Fritz Hermann took a step forward another. Cyr- 
 il's right hand lowered itself a little, turned, went 
 out to him, as in welcome ; he placed his left hand 
 within it, his right on the white brow of the sleep- 
 ing girl. 
 
 " Meta," he said, gently, " awake, awake, my child." 
 
 The large eyes unclosed quietly, unstartled; and 
 looked into the two faces bent above her ah! so 
 strangely dissimilar ! 
 
 " I have done you only harm, my child," said Her- 
 mann, in a strange, broken voice. " I knew it all the 
 while, but I would not see ; I have sacrificed you 
 health and happiness ; and what have I learned ? What 
 can one learn from spirits too weak to resist the influ- 
 ence of one unfriendly presence? Can such as they 
 speak truth, when my own will can, perhaps, control
 
 THE POWER OF GOD. 149 
 
 them to falsehood? I have done with spirits. God 
 be with you, my child ; you shall suffer from me no 
 more." 
 
 He put her fingers to his tremulous, hot lips, then he 
 went away through the open window into the night. 
 And no one spoke or hindered his departure. 
 
 Meta lay still for a moment, looking with large, be- 
 wildered eyes from one to the other. Then she sat up 
 on the couch with her hand to her forehead. 
 
 " I do not understand," she said, piteously ; " has he 
 gone ? Then I am all alone." 
 
 Cyril's eyes grew suddenly moist, but his lips were 
 firm. 
 
 " Not alone," he said, " the Lord Christ is with you, 
 and you have many to live for." 
 
 " And I will take care of you, Meta," said a voice, 
 as the person who all this while had stood in the door 
 came forward and stood beside her a tall, attenuated 
 figure with hollow chest, narrow shoulders, and abun- 
 dant snow-white hair. 
 
 Meta let him take her hand and draw her to his 
 side ; she laid her head upon his shoulder and closed 
 her eyes. 
 
 " She needs rest," said Francis Merton. He stood 
 more erect, and bent a pair of soft, dark eyes upon 
 Cyril's face. His own was deadly white, but it was not 
 an old face ; the hair was silvery, but the beard upon his 
 lip was black as night ; his teeth were white and per- 
 fect. There was a strange, rapt look about him, as
 
 150 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 of a prophet or seer, yet a hint of weakness about 
 the lips. 
 
 He held out his hand to Cyril with a kind gesture. 
 " I am her father's friend," he said ; " she is safe with 
 me." 
 
 Cyril went away silently. 
 
 At the little gate stood Fritz Hermann. " You have 
 left her ? " he said ; " and so soon ? " 
 
 " There was no more," Cyril answered, wearily, " that 
 I could do for her." 
 
 " But for yourself ? Do you not know ? One word 
 less than a word the lifting of a finger " 
 
 " Hush ! " said Cyril. " The time has not come 
 if it ever come when I can ask anything for my- 
 self." 
 
 " So ? But tell me, for I leave here to-morrow I 
 shall see you no more tell me, what is this strange 
 power of yours ? " 
 
 " I would tell you if I knew," said Cyril Deane. 
 " Let me go now, for I am very weary." 
 
 " Ach ! yes ; I know it, this weariness. It is the 
 force, the magnetism the dynamic power, that you 
 have lost used ach! what know we? It is but a 
 naming of names! Come, lean on me I am strong; 
 we will walk together, and you will talk to me of this 
 strange power of yours. Dynamic power, did I say? 
 Ah ! what is dynamic power ? "What is magnetism ? " 
 
 " I do not know," said Cyril, patiently. 
 
 " Nein dock; none of us know," said his friend.
 
 THE POWER OP GOD. 151 
 
 " But this power of yours it is different. If I could 
 learn of it, I would leave only the house, not the city." 
 
 Then Cyril looked into his face with gray, tired 
 eyes. " You see how weak / am," he said ; " it is not 
 my power, but the power of God."
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 AT THE DOOR OF THE SECEET. 
 
 CYEIL DEANE was, as we are accustomed to say, 
 " only human, after all." I had nearly used the words 
 with no qualification ; but what is, what can be, more 
 transcendently lofty than the possibilities that lie in the 
 " only human " ? It was a distinct satisfaction to him 
 to reflect that it was clearly his duty to go the next 
 morning to inquire for Mrs. Shryock, and also yes, 
 certainly, also for Meta. The surging tumult at his 
 heart as he set forth to perform this duty was not, 
 however, entirely pleasurable; and it was with a sud- 
 den sense of providential interposition that, as he 
 turned a corner, he came face to face with Felix Gold. 
 
 " Come with me, Gold," he said, eagerly, " all the 
 way if possible ; I have much to tell you, and should 
 have looked you up in the course of the day " 
 
 " So? " said Felix Gold. " But I felt it so, Cyril ; I 
 knew myself to be needed somewhere. It is my hour 
 for study, but I came forth, for I knew that some one 
 needed me. And I rejoice that it should be the friend 
 of my heart." 
 
 He linked his arm in Cyril's, and fell into step be-
 
 AT THE DOOR OF THE SECRET. 153 
 
 side him as he spoke ; his dark face was very earnest 
 and tender, his very presence was strength and consola- 
 tion to Cyril, weary and worn after the struggle of the 
 previous evening. 
 
 " Your hour for study, and you are here ? " he said, 
 glancing up in his friend's face ; " do you know some 
 people would say you are idle a shirker of duty ? " 
 
 " And if I know myself to be about my Father's busi- 
 ness, what is that to me ? " said Gold, smiling. " * They 
 say ? "What say they ? Let them say ! ' Is not that a 
 true word?" 
 
 " Yes ; but, Gold, I grow puzzled over it sometimes. 
 It is wrong in me perhaps " 
 
 " Not wrong to be puzzled, Cyril ? " 
 
 " I feel it wrong. You are never so. How I envy 
 that calm security of yours that trust in your own 
 instinct your confident acting upon impulse ! " 
 
 " But you also act from instinct impulse what 
 you will to call it you also, Cyril." 
 
 " But afterward I pause, doubt, question, analyze. 
 Why should I ? Why can not I be like you as a little 
 child ? " 
 
 " Because, though members of the same body, we 
 have not the same office," said his friend. u Do you 
 not know that your analysis is very precious to me? 
 The instinct may be all that one needs for one's self, but 
 the analysis the scientific acquaintance with a subject 
 that is very good to help other people. If I have a 
 pain in my head me ! I know it by what you call
 
 154 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 instinct ; but if I have scientific knowledge of the causes 
 of headache, then when your face is pale and your eyes 
 blood-shot, I say : ' My friend, you suffer ; can I help 
 you ? ' " 
 
 "Ah! if analysis help one to help others," said 
 Cyril. 
 
 He told his friend all that had happened at the Her- 
 mitage the night previous. 
 
 " Poor, poor girl ! " he said ; " poor, broken flower ! 
 Gold, if I had but put out a hand to her she would 
 have come to me; and I should not have abused my 
 power, I should have asked nothing for myself I should 
 have brought her to you " 
 
 " How know you that you would have asked noth- 
 ing for yourself ? You had no right to hold out even 
 a finger to make any claim at all upon her unless 
 you claimed all ; and he who yields a little may yield 
 more." 
 
 " But to leave her there " 
 
 " Where her father placed her," said Gold. " Your 
 impulse was right. Do not torment yourself. " 
 
 " But why was it right ? It will not always do to 
 yield to impulse, Gold. So, men have murdered 
 worse than murdered ! And there is no time to reason 
 about it." 
 
 Gold's reply was to aim a swift, light blow at his 
 friend's face. "Why did you dodge and wink?" he 
 demanded, laughing. 
 
 " There it is, you see ; that was instinct. Keason
 
 AT THE DOOR OP THE SECRET. 155 
 
 would have told me that you would not and could not 
 hurt me.'' 
 
 " And there is just a possibility that reason might 
 have been mistaken, whereas your impulse was correct, 
 for I struck you, though not hard. Some there are, 
 Cyril, who speak of the involuntary action of the 
 muscles; others say that intuition is but a swifter 
 method of reasoning. Are the two statements related ? 
 You should know, better than I." 
 
 " Is it not unworthy of a man's dignity to allow any 
 action of his to be involuntary ? " asked Cyril slowly. 
 "With an infant all actions are so; it does not know 
 why it winks at the light ; it can not control the mo- 
 tions of hands, feet, or head. Gradually, the man 
 acquires control over a certain set of muscles, until he 
 attains a limit fixed by the consent of thousands of 
 generations, beyond which all movement is conceded to 
 be involuntary. But is there any reason why we should 
 never pass that limit ? Nay, we know already that we 
 can go a hair's breadth beyond it. For breathing is 
 one of these involuntary actions ; yet up to a certain 
 point a man can hold his breath. And if we may 
 control the actions of the lungs, why not those of the 
 heart? why not the circulation of the blood every 
 change and transformation in the fluids and tissues of 
 these wondrous bodies of ours?" 
 
 " Well, I will tell you why," said Gold. " Men 
 learned to hold their breath to save themselves from 
 drowning, perhaps, or to dive for pearls ; but when it
 
 156 FROM DUSK TO DAWN, 
 
 became troublesome and painful to them they invented 
 a machine. And it is easier to invent a machine, my 
 Cyril, than to bring the whole man under obedience to 
 the power of God." 
 
 " The power of God ! The very words I used to 
 Fritz Hermann," said Cyril. 
 
 " So ! And they are true words, my Cyril. See you 
 not how this explains your impulse ? It is the life 
 within that closes your eyes at the approach of danger 
 to your sight life which cares for you when you have 
 not learned to care for yourself. And what is life but 
 the power of God ? So, in your character, in your words 
 and deeds, you have involuntary movements impulses, 
 instincts, intuitions what you will. It is the part of 
 a child to obey them blindly, unreasoningly ; but the 
 man questions, analyzes, classifies, that he may raise 
 them to voluntariness, that he may fuse his will with 
 the life within him, which is the divine will." 
 
 " Such fusion would be the annihilation of sickness, 
 of " He paused, aghast almost at the awfulness of 
 the thought that had come to him. 
 
 " ' Death is swallowed up in victory,' " said Felix 
 Gold quietly, though his eyes shone. " ' death, where 
 is thy sting ? grave, where is thy victory ? The sting 
 of death is sin ; and the power of sin is the law. But 
 thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through 
 our Lord Jesus Christ.' " 
 
 " ' The power of sin is the law ? ' " repeated Cyril 
 inquiringly.
 
 AT THE DOOR OF THE SECRET. 157 
 
 " Ay. You see you must obey your impulses 
 though they may seem contrary to law. To a good 
 law they can not be contrary ; to a bad one they ought 
 to be. Any way, the leading of the Spirit within you 
 must be supreme." 
 
 " But that is a dangerous doctrine, Gold." 
 
 " Truth is always dangerous," said Felix Gold. 
 
 " But all the fanaticisms of the world have started 
 out from that point. Preach that doctrine, and you 
 open the door at once to a million vagaries, wild- 
 nesses " 
 
 " The door of what ? " asked his friend. " Christ 
 says, ' I am the door ' ; and there is no other." 
 
 " You make a breach in the wall, then," returned 
 Cyril, " by which thieves and robbers may enter." 
 
 " Alas ! the breach is made to our hand," returned 
 Felix Gold, " and for centuries men have stolen into 
 the fold thereby. But why should I say alas! Did 
 not Christ know? Truly, he warned his followers 
 against such, and gave them a test to know the true 
 from the false. ' By their fruits ye shall know them ' ; 
 and by our own fruits may we know ourselves. And 
 ' the fruit of the spirit,' says Paul, ' is love, joy, peace, 
 long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, 
 temperance.' If these ripen from the life within you, 
 my brother, trust it ; let it lead you whither it will. If 
 not, it is not the power of life unto life, but of death 
 unto death. We may not be able to reason correct- 
 ly as to the wisdom or the ethics of such and such
 
 158 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 a course, but we can know whether we love our ene- 
 mies." 
 
 " May we not deceive ourselves ? " 
 
 " Only voluntarily and deliberately, I think ; at least 
 for any length of time," said Felix Gold ; " and we 
 have no defense against our own perverted, enslaved 
 will, falsely called free. We may will to be true or to 
 be false ; and as we will we are." 
 
 " Impulse in action, intuition in knowledge, inspi- 
 ration Gold, can you help me once more ? What is 
 inspiration ? " 
 
 " A breathing in," said Gold, " of good or bad air, 
 as we choose ; for we may choose the fine, sweet air of 
 the hills of God, or the low, death-laden fumes of the 
 valley of sin. To breathe the Spirit, the power of God, 
 is to be transformed into his likeness, so that we think 
 his thoughts, speak, write his words, and do his works. 
 Cyril, the error in all these fanaticisms of which you 
 have spoken is that they have neglected this test of sin- 
 cerity : that as the bramble-bush can not bring forth 
 grapes, neither may the fig-tree bear thorns. Wrath, 
 strifes, envyings, and the like, are not the fruit of the 
 Spirit. Cyril, there was love in your heart toward the 
 man who had well-nigh slain the maiden who is so 
 tenderly dear to you ; you chose to save her through 
 him, which was to save him as well as 'her to invoke 
 the life-power to drive out from both the death-power. 
 My friend, you have done well. What there is in your 
 action that we do not understand will yet be made
 
 AT THE DOOR OF THE SECRET. 159 
 
 clear. The hand of God upheld you, and his voice 
 directed you." 
 
 " This life-power what is it ? " asked Cyril. 
 
 " It may be that Fritz Hermann can help us to dis- 
 cover," said Felix Gold softly. 
 
 Cyril started. " But Miss Leonard," he said, " and 
 his power over her ah ! you mean it is still he who 
 must save her ? " 
 
 " Only he can," said Felix Gold. " Distance, my 
 friend what is that to the death-power ? " 
 
 " But during his last absence " 
 
 " That is true. She was freer, stronger, better, 
 because his mind was otherwise occupied, and he took 
 no thought of her. But she was still his slave, Cyril 
 she who should be Christ's free- woman." 
 
 " You are always right, Gold," said Cyril brokenly. 
 They had now reached the gate of the Hermitage, and 
 he spoke with his hand upon the bell and his face 
 turned away. " And I am quite willing that that 
 any one Why, I would leave here to-day, and never 
 see her again, if that were best for her. I would 
 Well, I don't want to say anything extravagant " 
 
 " There is no need, Cyril," said Felix Gold gently ; 
 " no need, brother. I understand." 
 
 " Will you come in ? " asked Cyril, after a moment's 
 pause. " I wish you would, Gold ; I feel so weak and 
 broken to-day." 
 
 " ' As thy day so shall thy strength be,' Cyril. But 
 I will come in. It may be there is work for me here ;
 
 160 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 at the least, I may await and be ready, if it be but to 
 give a cup of cold water to some little one. I will not 
 intrude myself ; I will wait in the room where any guest 
 may enter, but I will come in. May Christ enter with 
 us two." 
 
 And yet, when he had said the words, the heart of 
 Felix Gold reproached him. Was not Christ, then, al- 
 ways present? But it was into the hearts of the in- 
 dwellers that he would have entered if he could ; and 
 that temple is entered by the Lord Christ continually, 
 until he takes up his abode there to dwell within it 
 eternally. Kemembering which, the soul of the man 
 rejoiced and was glad. 
 
 He sat very still in the large, low-ceilinged parlor, 
 rather chill and dreary, although the December sun- 
 shine did its best to brighten it. There was a carpet of 
 warm tints upon the floor, heavy curtains hung at the 
 windows, and the crimson upholstery had been freed 
 from its linen coverings ; yet, in spite of these accesso- 
 ries, and the soft-coal -fire in the open grate, the room 
 looked desolate and deserted, and beyond the open door 
 into the study could still be seen the ruins of the massive 
 overturned table. 
 
 "That's what the spirits did," said a small voice. 
 Felix Gold turned quickly, then held out his arms, with 
 a smile of infinite tenderness. 
 
 " So ! " he said, as Hugh climbed upon his knee 
 and nestled contentedly against him ; " so it is you ! I 
 felt there was work for me."
 
 AT THE DOOR OF THE SECRET. 161 
 
 " Yes, it is Hugh," said the child. " How did you 
 know my name ? Are you the man that makes people 
 well ? Could you make me well ? " 
 
 " Perhaps so," said the deep voice gently. " At the 
 least, I can bring thee to the Lord Christ, poor little 
 one. He is the only Physician." 
 
 " Is he ? Could he heal grandmamma ? She doesn't 
 want to die or, at least," added the child, " she didn't. 
 I think she does not care so much now. Mr. Deane has 
 made her more willing." 
 
 "Not Mr. Deane Christ," said Felix Gold. He 
 looked down into the wizened little face upon his 
 breast, and smiled once more as he drew the boy closer. 
 Hugh lay and gazed at him with his great eyes, as 
 though he were trying by their means to absorb a little 
 vitality from the vigorous personality that enfolded him. 
 
 " One has not yet learned to cure old age," said 
 Felix Gold ; " it is still to come, that knowledge. In 
 truth, one knows very little. Once I thought we had 
 but to pray to the dear Lord ; yet even he had different 
 methods for various diseases. He put his finger into 
 the ears of the deaf man ; he spat and touched the 
 speechless tongue ; he made clay and anointed the eyes 
 of the blind. Cyril will analyze, he will discover the 
 secret of all these things, but with a little one like thee 
 one can not go far wrong." 
 
 He laid his hand gently on the boy's wide forehead. 
 " Dost thou believe, little Hugh, that the Lord Christ 
 can heal thee ? " he asked. 
 11
 
 162 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " Yes," said the child unhesitatingly. " Will he 
 make me as strong as other boys ? " he added, after a 
 pause. 
 
 " As other boys ? " said Felix Gold. " That I do not 
 know, my child. As other men as strong as I ? Yes, 
 if you will it so not quite so big, perhaps ; one can not 
 tell," he added, smiling. " But all things are possible 
 at thy age. See, I will tell thee. Sickness what is it 
 but sin ? Leave off sin, and sickness flees with it. That 
 is the great general truth, but for each sick man and 
 each sinner it is limited by many particulars. More- 
 over, there are sins against the body and sins against 
 the soul, and one may practice one of these classes with- 
 out the other : as that a man may be avaricious or un- 
 loving, and yet maintain his body in perfect health ; or 
 he may overwork wear out his body ; he may live amid 
 unhealthy surroundings, he may be forced by poverty 
 to feed upon food that is unwholesome, yet his soul 
 may be clean and pure as the soul of a little child. Or 
 he may inherit the sins of his forefathers in the form of 
 sickness and pain which they never felt. But a little 
 child who resolves to have nothing to do with sin, either 
 against soul or body, may grow to be a strong and vig- 
 orous man. Do you believe this, Hugh ? " 
 
 " Yes," said the boy once more. 
 
 " With those who are older it is hard," said Felix 
 Gold. " When sins against body or soul take such 
 forms as consumption or dyspepsia they are hard to 
 cure. It can be done, I am sure. One day we shall
 
 AT THE DOOR OP THE SECEET. 163 
 
 learn how ; meanwhile, it is hard. But at thy age all 
 things are possible. Kneel here with me." 
 
 He put the boy from his arms ; they knelt, facing 
 each other, on the floor ; the man held the two poor, 
 thin hands fast in his, so brown and vigorous ; their 
 eyes were fixed, each on those of the other ; then Felix 
 Gold looked upward and outward to the December sky, 
 but the eyes of the child still rested upon his, in utter 
 faith and trust, and as if beholding there, as in a mir- 
 ror, some of the glories unveiled to that triumphant 
 gaze. 
 
 "Father of all," said Felix Gold, "Jesus Christ, son 
 of the Father, thy will is not that any should perish, 
 but that all should have eternal life. Pour that life 
 into the soul of this little one, that he may live to 
 thee both with body and soul. Keep him in perfect 
 health ; drive away all sickness and pain far from him, 
 for these are not of thy laws, but the consequences of 
 thy broken laws. Thus, only in perfect health may thy 
 will be truly done. And yet, our Physician, we do 
 not ask for sudden or immediate healing. Shall not we 
 leave to thee the application of thine own remedies? 
 Pain is not merely the consequence it is the remedy for 
 sin ; it is thy sheep-dog, dear Lord, to bring us back to 
 our only Shepherd. Therefore, until we return indeed 
 to thee with all our heart and soul and mind, let pain 
 still pursue us, bark, bite, and worry us, that we may 
 flee to thee for succor and protection. But this dear 
 child, Lord, who seems to us so pure and sinless, has
 
 164: FROM DUSK TO DAWK 
 
 not the sheep-dog already brought him to thy bosom ? 
 Thou knowest; we do not know. Keep him in thine 
 arms, Lord, for there alone is health and safety." 
 
 As if by a sudden impulse of tenderness, he drew the 
 child close to his breast, bowed his head over him, and 
 so remained for several moments. When he rose to his 
 feet, with the child still in his arms, he found that his 
 prayer had reached more ears than he had known ; for 
 in the room stood Cyril Deane, Francis Merton, Fritz 
 Hermann, and old Nastasia, at sight of whom Hugh 
 slipped away from his new friend and ran toward her 
 joyously. 
 
 " Nastasia, Nastasia," he cried, " do you know I am 
 to be well and strong? Mr. Deane, do you hear? A 
 strong, healthy man, as strong as lie. Will it not be 
 delightful to be strong? Do you see how well I am 
 now ? " And, indeed, there was a sparkle in the eyes, a 
 flush on the thin cheek, a spring, a buoyancy about the 
 wizened figure, that were very unlike little Hugh 
 Leonard. 
 
 " First of all, you are to be a good boy, if you are to 
 be a well boy," said Felix Gold, smiling. He fixed his 
 eyes upon the face of old Nastasia, down whose withered 
 cheek the tears were slowly stealing. " You heard the 
 prayer ? " he said. 
 
 " Dat I did, marster," she replied. 
 
 "And you believe that Christ can make the boy 
 strong and well ? " 
 
 The old woman looked at him with eyes that would
 
 AT THE DOOR OP THE SECRET. 165 
 
 have been indignation had they not been so full of ad- 
 miration. 
 
 " Marster," she said, " sometimes I hears folks say 
 dat dis con j 'in' business is all foolishness and supisti- 
 tion ; but ole Nastasia knows better dan dat, marster. 
 It may be wickit for one nigga to conjah anudder, but 
 it kin be done, kase why, 1'se done seen it. I'se seen 
 um pine away an' die, marster, jest kase dey wuz con- 
 jah'd, an' fur nuffin else, an' dat's a fac'. So, dough I 
 ain't nebber seen nobody conjah 'd into health an' good- 
 ness kase dat ar wuk ain't for no ign'ant nigga, sah; 
 dat takes a gemplum like you yit I knows it kin be 
 done, sah, and dat only in de name o' de Lawd Jesus 
 Christ, marster." 
 
 " Then, you will gladly help," said Felix Gold. " A 
 child like that needs help from us who are older ; they 
 suffer a life-time, often, from our sins against their 
 bodies. Therefore, you will take him with you and 
 give him to eat a great bowl of porridge, I think, or 
 of milk and bread. Ha, Hugh, wilt thou eat a great 
 bowl of milk and bread, hot with no sugar for the 
 love of the dear Lord ? " 
 
 " Yes, I will ; I am hungry," said the boy, dancing 
 from one foot to the other, as he clung to Nastasia's 
 hand, in a more gay and childlike way than had ever 
 been seen in him before. 
 
 " And then thou wilt sleep ? " 
 
 " But I am not sleepy," said Hugh. 
 
 " Learn to be sleepy when thou wilt, to sleep when
 
 166 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 thou mayst," said the other. " Lie down upon thy 
 little bed, say thy prayer, and fix thy mind upon the 
 good Shepherd, who gathers the lambs in his arms and 
 carries them in his bosom, and sleep will come. Wilt 
 thou do this ? Then come first and kiss me. Now the 
 Lord bless thee and heal thee ! Good-by." 
 
 He turned to the others when the boy had left the 
 room; there was a light upon his face, a light that 
 never was on sea or shore ; but as his eyes fell upon 
 the face of Cyril Deane he saw that it was pale and 
 worn, as if from suffering. Felix Gold threw an arm 
 across his friend's shoulders, boyishly enough, but put 
 his question to the others : 
 
 " Mrs. Shryock, Miss Leonard how are they ? " 
 
 " Mrs. Shryock sleeps," said Francis Merton ; " it may 
 be that she will pass away without waking, and so 
 death will be robbed of its terrors. So, at least, her 
 physician thinks and hopes." 
 
 " And Miss Leonard ? " 
 
 " "Will see no one," he said gravely ; " not even me. 
 Nastasia reports for she would not be denied that her 
 young mistress lies still, cold, pale, yet her pulse is good, 
 and she has eaten food not much, but enough. It is 
 a case that puzzles one, but for the present we can but 
 let her alone." 
 
 " I fancy," said Cyril in a low voice, and with down- 
 cast eyes, " that she misses the stimulus of of our 
 friend's, Herr Hermann's, will-power. He has with- 
 drawn it rather suddenly, and her own is so enfee-
 
 AT THE DOOR OP THE SECRET. 167 
 
 bled by disease But what do we know of these 
 things?" 
 
 " We have learned or should have learned enough 
 to teach us not to intermeddle," said Francis Merton 
 sternly. " When I sent for you, some months ago, Her- 
 mann, to share with you the truth that had been re- 
 vealed to me, did I not warn you against a rash, un- 
 scientific use of this power of yours which we call mag- 
 netism ? against intercourse with influences which are 
 not beings^ but shells " 
 
 " There, I protest ! " cried Fritz Hermann. " Shells ? 
 No ! I can not believe it." 
 
 " And," said Cyril Deane, " can there be a proper 
 scientific use of such power as Herr Hermann's." 
 
 " Has not your friend just given us an example of 
 it ? " asked Merton. " Not entirely scientific, perhaps, 
 since he made use of unnecessary terms and formulas ; 
 still, not wwscientific, for, without doubt, the Christ was 
 one of the enlightened, though he accomplished but 
 eleven of the twelve labors. Buddha achieved them 
 all." 
 
 " Unscientific, because I used the name because I 
 prayed to the Lord Christ ? " said Felix Gold, looking 
 steadfastly upon the other ; " but I say unto you, friend, 
 whose name I know not, that there is no science of 
 healing, or of magnetism, or of astronomy, or of aught 
 else, but in and of Jesus Christ. ' For all things were 
 made by him ; and without him was not anything made 
 that was made.' "
 
 168 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 Francis Merton smiled in a sad, superior way, and 
 shook his head, but Felix Gold caught both of Cyril's 
 hands in his own. 
 
 " Brother," he said, " be of good cheer, for we stand 
 now at the very door of the great secret. ' I am the 
 door,' says Christ."
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 VITALISM. 
 
 IT was not long, as we count time, that Mrs. 
 Shryock was left in this world to gain the life which 
 Cyril had told her it might be her business to carry with 
 her to the help of those gone before. Not long ; but 
 has eternal life aught to do with time? It is the 
 readiness to receive, that is all ; mere time is nothing ; 
 and the soul of the woman had hungered desperately, 
 though she knew not what she would have. 
 
 Scarcely an hour had passed since the little hands of 
 Hugh had been clasped in those of Felix Gold, when 
 Mrs. Shryock, as she lay upon her bed, lonely save for 
 the presence of old Nastasia, opened her eyes and fixed 
 them upon those of the old negress, who hurried to her 
 side with the cordial the doctor had ordered for her 
 waking. 
 
 " Here, honey, here's your medicine," she said, and 
 put the spoon to her lips, but the red fluid ran out upon 
 the pillow, where it lay like a stain of life-blood. 
 
 " Can't swaller can't swaller, my Lawd ! " said the 
 old woman, shaking her head mournfully. " Guess ole 
 Nastasia knows what dat ar means. Honey, Marse
 
 170 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 Cyril Deane right dar in de study, 'long o' dem udder 
 folks. Shill I call him to pray fur your po' soul, ole 
 Miss ! " 
 
 But the old woman's claw-like fingers had clasped 
 her wrist in the death-grip. They would not be loosed. 
 The eyes were fixed upon hers. Nastasia could not 
 translate that look ; it was not terrible or full of shud- 
 dering fear, as those eyes had been so lately, but mourn- 
 ful, solemn, appealing, awe-full. 
 
 " Yes, yes, mistis," cried Nastasia, writhing through 
 all the length of her tall form, " Yes, ole Miss, I'll do 
 it ; whatever 'tis, mistis, Nastasia '11 do it, sho' ! " 
 
 Still that gaze ; still the death-grip on her wrist ; no 
 words. Nastasia fell upon her knees beside the bed, 
 and buried her face in the crimson coverlet. 
 
 " Fur de Lawd's sake, mistis, what is it ? Tell me 
 what you wants done. De Lawd ain't set your spirit 
 free dat you should conjah mine ! " 
 
 The dying woman, by one supreme effort, raised her- 
 self upon one elbow. " Nastasia," she cried hoarsely ; 
 then her voice rose to a shriek " NASTASIA ! " 
 
 A film came over her eyes, her breath rattled in her 
 throat, her fingers relaxed their hold; she fell back 
 upon her pillows dead ! 
 
 For a moment Nastasia lay prone upon the floor 
 where she had fallen when the death-clutch left her 
 wrist ; then, rising to her knees, she rocked herself back 
 and forth in terror-struck silence. 
 
 "For I knows what it means, dat call," said old
 
 VITALISM. 171 
 
 Nastasia, rising to her feet with pathetic dignity. " I 
 knows what it means, an' dat's why I ain't got no time 
 to lose." 
 
 She closed the eyes, straightened the limbs, and 
 folded the hands upon the breast. " Her chillen and 
 gran'chillen all done pass away, an' no han' but 
 mine shall tech her," she said; "but fust I must see 
 to dat po' lamb. 'Tain't no time now fur her to be 
 a-layin' up-stairs like dat ; she's got ter rouse up an' 
 do de will o' de Lawd." 
 
 There was scarcely more life in the face she next 
 looked upon than in that she had left. Meta Leonard 
 lay pale and still, neither sleeping nor waking; her 
 hands rested, one on either side, upon the couch, white, 
 limp, and listless ; even the brown eyes were dull, 
 glassy, and lusterless. She seemed neither to think nor 
 to feel. 
 
 " Miss Meta ! " 
 
 No reply. 
 
 " Miss Meta, death is in de house." 
 
 And still there was no answer. 
 
 " It's yo' grandma, Miss Meta, de angel of de 
 Lawd done summoned her, an' she went mighty willin', 
 thanks to him an' de messenger he sent from heaven ! 
 Ain't you heard me, Miss Meta ? I tells you, yo' grand- 
 ma done daid daid, I tells you. An' befo' she died 
 she call ' Nastasia ! Nastasia* jes' like dat, honey ; an' 
 dat's a sign she wants me, my lamb ; an' I got ter 
 go, mighty quick, too ; fur when ole Miss want a nigga',
 
 172 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 she want 'empow'ful pow'ful, dat she do. honey, 
 Miss Meta, my chile, my blessed lamb, dat I carr'd in 
 dese arms when yo' ha'r wuz de color o' gold an' yo' 
 eyes like vi'lets don't you hear ole Nastasia? 
 my lamb ! " But Meta did not answer. 
 
 The old woman threw herself on the floor and cov- 
 ered the pale hand with kisses. " Would I bodder you 
 honey, an' disturve yo' res', ef 'twuz on'y ole Nastasia 
 dat wuz struck wid death ? " she said. " Honey, you 
 know Nastasia would die any minute to save yo' slip- 
 per from gittin' s'iled. But, chile, it's Marse Hugh. 
 Dat saint of de Lawd dat come wid Marse Cyril, he 
 done prayed wid him, holdin' he two little han's in 
 his'n, for de Lawd to make him strong an' well ; an' 
 den he done sont him away to sleep " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 It was with a cry that Meta Leonard sprang to her 
 feet and put back the heavy brown waves from her pale 
 temples. " Sleep ? " she said. 
 
 She looked neither to the right nor left ; her white 
 robe was crumpled and disordered, her brown hair 
 hung loosely over her shoulders, but she passed through 
 the door swiftly, silently, as a spirit, and descended the 
 staircase. She asked no questions. It may have been 
 only habit that led her to the study, where the four men 
 still sat in converse around the shattered table which 
 their united strength had propped up in its former 
 position. 
 
 " You talk of animal magnetism," Hermann had re-
 
 VITALISM. 173 
 
 peated; or, as I say more willingly, vital magnetism. 
 "But what is it? If it exists, if it can be used, are we 
 not fools to spend muscular strength upon this table 
 when we could lift it with the ends of our fin- 
 gers ? " 
 
 " If we understood it, could control it yes," said 
 Felix Gold. " Yet to lift, that helps the muscles and 
 the health," he added, thoughtfully Francis Merton, 
 the theosophist, smiled, and said nothing. 
 
 " Were you in the habit of lifting it with the ends 
 of your fingers ? " asked Cyril. " Surely, it was not this 
 table you used in your seances ? " 
 
 " No ; we had little to do with tables ; our manifesta- 
 tions were obtained in other ways. When we used a 
 table it was a smaller one very light." 
 
 " And why light, if it were not animal magnetism 
 that you employed upon it?" asked Cyril. " Could not 
 a spirit, if it could influence matter at all, lift a heavy 
 table as easily as a light one ? " 
 
 " Part of your answer is there" said the man, with a 
 gesture toward the broken leg ; " for the rest well, 
 frankly, I do not know. What is matter, my friend, 
 and what is spirit ? For we must know this, to answer 
 if one can influence the other." 
 
 " Pure spirit manifested as matter in the abstract 
 Brahm and Parabrahm," said the theosophist. 
 
 " And what are these but other names ? " asked Felix 
 Gold. " They tell us nothing nothing ! " 
 
 " They tell us this," said Francis Merton, " that
 
 174 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 matter, space, motion, and duration are one and the 
 same eternal substance." 
 
 " Eternal ? " said Cyril Deane. 
 
 " Only matter is eternal," said the other. 
 
 A glance passed between Cyril and his friend the 
 meeting of eyes that understood one another. 
 
 " ' And this is life eternal,' " said Felix Gold, " ' that 
 they might know thee, the only true God, and Jesus 
 Christ whom thou hast sent.' " 
 
 " Any number of Manvantaras and Pralayas are not 
 eternity in that sense," said Cyril ; " but if you mean 
 that matter alone is everlasting, Mr. Merton, then what 
 is matter ? " 
 
 " We will not contend about a definition," said Fran- 
 cis Merton. " Nay, I am content to acknowledge that 
 to know the secret and the mode of Jesus the Christ is 
 eternal life." 
 
 " Not his secret, but himself," said Cyril gently. 
 
 " Well, well, it matters little," returned the other, a 
 trifle impatiently. 
 
 " It matters everything," said Felix Gold. 
 
 " At all events, it is a question upon which we can 
 never agree," said Merton. " ' What is matter ? ' you 
 ask. I have already told you. It is one form, one 
 manifestation, of that eternal or everlasting substance 
 which is itself merely the outbreathing of Brahm." 
 
 " And what is Brahm ? or should I say who ? " 
 
 " To say who is to ascribe personality, and that is 
 beyond us. Brahm is the Soul of the universe, of all
 
 VITALISM. 175 
 
 that is. In it we now live, move, and have our being ; 
 into it we shall some day be reabsorbed. We know no 
 more." 
 
 " And I living, sentient, suffering can I look up- 
 ward to that cold, non-conscious, unconditioned some- 
 thing, and say ' Our Father ' ? " 
 
 " Why upward rather than inward ? " asked Francis 
 Merton. " The highest to which you can pray is your 
 own higher self that which you will be when your full 
 development shall have been achieved, your final incar- 
 nation accomplished." 
 
 Cyril's brow had been bent upon his hand ; he now 
 raised his head and fixed his clear eyes, once again shin- 
 ing with that strange inward light, full upon the face of 
 Francis Merton. 
 
 " My higher self," he said. " It is true I have a 
 higher self. Even now, when I am tossed about this 
 lower me on the bitter waves of anguish, doubt, and 
 contending passions tossed about like a feather even 
 now my higher self stands firm and fearless. But why ? 
 Do you think it could stand alone for a single instant ? 
 I tell you it is as weak as a child it is a child a babe 
 in Christ. It stands holding fast by his hand the hand 
 of the man Christ Jesus." 
 
 " And would I destroy that faith of yours ? " asked 
 Francis Merton gently, while the dew rose in his kind 
 eyes. " It is very beautiful. I may know and I speak 
 because it will not disturb you that the Christ of each 
 man is the ideal of that which is noblest in himself "
 
 176 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " Because all that is noble, all that is pure and 
 right, comes from him and must be like him," said 
 Cyril Deane. " But this is no ideal this is himself ! " 
 
 He had risen to his feet ; he looked upward, even as 
 Stephen when the stones fell thickest upon him ; there 
 was a smile on his lips and radiance upon his brow. At 
 that moment the door opened to admit Meta Leonard, 
 closely followed by old Nastasia. The girl's face was 
 flushed from the haste she had made, her eyes were wild, 
 her appearance disordered ; she was like a Maenad in 
 her sorrow and agitation not the calm, sweet saint of 
 Cyril's imagination. 
 
 There was no holding back from her, because she 
 had thus fallen below his ideal ; weakness or hesitation 
 about the man who loved her ; no thought of himself, 
 higher or lower. He moved toward her quietly and took 
 her hand. 
 
 " "What is it ? " he said. " Sit here ; you are weak 
 and tired. What troubles you ? " 
 
 She looked about her wildly for an instant, then his 
 influence calmed her ; she sank into the chair he drew 
 forward, and looked wistfully into his face. 
 
 " Hugh ! " she said " what have you done with him ? 
 Where is he ? " 
 
 " Hugh is in his own room, sleeping quietly," he said. 
 
 " Asleep ? " 
 
 She left her hand in his, and drew the other over 
 her eyes as if bewildered ; then suddenly, pushing him 
 from her, sprang to her feet again with a cry.
 
 VITALISM. 177 
 
 " I will not be a slave again not even to you ! '' she 
 cried. " Hugh, Hugh, my little brother ! Oh, who 
 who had the heart to do it ? Not you, Fritz ; you 
 pledged your word to me. If it was killing me, what 
 would it do to him, I said. Was it you ? " 
 
 She turned fiercely upon Cyril. The words " I will 
 not be a slave again " had brought a smile of glad tri- 
 umph into his eyes. He scarcely heard the words " even 
 to you," though remembered later they might bring 
 their own sweetness ; but the light on his brow carried 
 conviction to the girl's dazed consciousness. 
 
 " No," she murmured ; " no, no ! not you. Forgive 
 me!" 
 
 " It was I," said Felix Gold gently, while Cyril once 
 more put her trembling form into the great chair. 
 " It was I, my child ; but no harm has been done to 
 him." 
 
 She interrupted him with a cry. " So he said of me 
 so he said of me until it was too late." 
 
 " Listen," said Cyril. He knelt upon the floor at 
 her feet, and compelled her troubled eyes to look into 
 his. "This is the sleep of life, not of death. God's 
 will is health for all of us therefore for little Hugh. 
 Sleep brings health, and Hugh's own will brought the 
 health-giving sleep. If we would control death and 
 sickness, must not sleep first be obedient to us? Each 
 of us should be able to sleep and wake at his own pleas- 
 ure. Some can. Then, to conquer also the confused 
 
 world of dreams; then, to bring the whole body into 
 12
 
 178 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 subjection, every organ, nerve, and artery; then, the 
 last enemy to be destroyed is death." 
 
 "But oh, my young marster, Death is pow'ful 
 strong ! " said Nastasia. " Ole Miss, she's done yielded 
 to his power, an 7 Nastasia '11 be de nex'. Yes, my 
 Lawd, Nastasia '11 be de nex'." 
 
 They followed her to the room where lay all that 
 was left of her mistress, leaving Cyril alone with Meta. 
 
 " Not now," he said, as the girl would have fol- 
 lowed. " You also will go and sleep, will you not ? of 
 your own will, for the love of God and of little Hugh." 
 
 He told her, in that gentle voice of his, all that had 
 happened, until the water stood in her eyes, and she 
 Was once more as docile as a little child. Then he 
 went with her to the door of her own room, where she 
 turned and gave him her hand. 
 
 " If I should doubt you again," she said, " and be 
 unkind to you, you will not mind ? I will try not ; but 
 I am so weak, I do not understand myself. Whom I 
 love or dislike why, even that I do not know ! I 
 seem to have neither will nor affections of my own. 
 I am like a straw upon the waves of the ocean. But 
 you understand you will not mind ? " 
 
 He smiled, well content, for it was to him as 
 though at the depths of those clear eyes of hers he 
 had seen her real self weak, numb from the fetters 
 that had bound it but yet struggling feebly for life 
 and freedom. And that self had said to him, " You 
 understand." He did not know that in words he had
 
 VITALISM. 179 
 
 not answered her. "When the door had closed upon her, 
 he went his way, calmly glad. In a corridor near by he 
 came upon Fritz Hermann, in a carved wooden seat 
 with curling arms and no back; his face was in his 
 hands and his elbows on his knees. " Sit here beside 
 me," he said, pulling near to his own throne another, 
 the fellow to it. " Sit here, and say what has come to 
 me. If you could know how hard I tried to will noth- 
 ing for the child for Meta how I strive now ! But 
 why ? If my will for her is good, why should not I will 
 for her ? You bade her go and sleep ; you could have 
 made her sleep. The same with the child. Yes, I see 
 it has wasted her life, and it may be that your way 
 will restore it. But why why can not one will for 
 her?" 
 
 "Because 'no man can deliver his "brother, nor 
 make agreement unto God for him,' " said Cyril ; " ' for 
 it cost more to redeem their souls, so that he must let 
 that alone forever.' " 
 
 " And yet men women have been healed by hyp- 
 notism," said Fritz Hermann. 
 
 " They are healed by medicine ; the wicked are 
 strong and well, and the good suffer and die. It is a 
 confused problem, Hermann an equation of many un- 
 known quantities. I do not profess to have solved it as 
 yet. But I am sure that the power which is to redeem 
 which is redeeming the world, is not hypnotism en- 
 forced sleep at the will of another It is not in any 
 respect the enslavement of the will, but its liberation ;
 
 180 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 and the one liberty is to do the will of Jesus Christ, 
 which is the law of the universe." 
 
 " And so you call that liberty ? " 
 
 " It is all you will find for it. Matter our friend 
 there could not define it but what is matter but a 
 balance, an equilibrium of forces ? " 
 
 " Ha ! " said Fritz Hermann. 
 
 "A partial equilibrium more or less stable," said 
 Cyril. " I am only thinking aloud, Hermann, stum- 
 bling on in half-light. So ' the whole creation groaneth 
 and travaileth in pain together,' struggling to achieve 
 that perfect equilibrium which is the consummation, 
 the manifesting of the sons of God." 
 
 " What does that mean ? " said Fritz Hermann. 
 
 " I do not know yet," said Cyril. " But even 
 science teaches us that there is only one force, of 
 which heat, light, electricity, magnetism, are mere mani- 
 festations. May there not be still a higher manifesta- 
 tion, more like the original force? and may not that 
 manifestation be the human will ? " 
 
 " So. At least, you make one think. But hypnotic 
 influence proceeds directly from the will. I see, indeed, 
 that some students this novelist Marion Crawford 
 among them teach that the power is purely a moral 
 force, having nothing to do with vital magnetism." 
 
 " You should know," said Cyril. 
 
 " I think he is perhaps right and wrong," said 
 Fritz Hermann. "He says that the looking into the 
 eyes, the holding the hand, the touching of tbp brow,
 
 VITALISM. 181 
 
 has nothing to do with the effect produced ; that they 
 are magical perhaps it is rather / who say that word 
 even as the passes of mesmerism were magical." 
 
 " And what say you ? " asked Cyril. 
 
 " I say, No,' r said Fritz Hermann. " Where you find 
 hypnotic power fully developed, you find a strong, vig- 
 orous physical frame running over, you may say, with 
 magnetic force ; able to light the gas with the finger or 
 deflect a compass needle. They are also men of strong 
 will-power born rulers. Napoleon could have been a 
 hypnotizer, a great one. So I say that the will-power 
 is the main thing ; but that it acts through vital mag- 
 netism, as the soul acts through the body, and is as 
 closely united to it." 
 
 " Then this is the secret of the life-power, the 
 death-power ! " cried Cyril, springing to his feet. " It 
 is the difference between a living body and a decaying 
 corpse. The last overpowers the will, and so poisons, 
 destroys, disintegrates; the first takes up, combines, 
 organizes, corresponds more and more perfectly with 
 its environment ' for in him we live, move, and have 
 our being' tends ever toward a more perfect equili- 
 brium. Correspondence with the environment is, there- 
 fore, to have the will properly focalized according to 
 the will of Christ, the universal center. Then, we shall 
 induce or let us say educe a similar rearrangement in 
 every will wherewith we come in contact; even as a 
 bar of steel, touching one pole of a magnet, is itself 
 magnetized and able to magnetize in turn. But a will
 
 182 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 not properly focalized can evidently not exert this 
 eductive magnetism ; it can but draw other wills to 
 itself, giving them no power that they can give again, 
 and bring breed confusion, destruction, death." 
 
 " Eductive magnetism," said Fritz Herman thought- 
 fully ; " you want a better name for it than that." 
 
 " It is the power of life unto life," said Cyril with 
 shining eyes. " Call it VITALISM ! " 
 
 As he spoke, they heard the voice of Felix Gold 
 through an open door near them. 
 
 " Take away the crimson, Nastasia, and let all be 
 purely and simply white."
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE EDGE OF THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 IT is ever after the descent of the Holy Spirit that 
 we are led into the wilderness ; why, one can surely 
 not explain upon any theory of materialism, though 
 the fact is axiomatic in every manual of casuistry, and 
 so familiar to the daily experience of every one that 
 we confidently watch for falls from the newly con- 
 verted. Even from the spiritual plane it is not easy 
 of explication. Is it the strange new power, vitalism, 
 which has come in greater force into our being, that 
 wrestles with and strives to draw into line the old 
 Adam of a perverted will? But whence, then, come 
 attacks from without? "Ah, these are arranged by 
 Providence for the perfecting of the saints." 
 
 Ay ! But what is Providence ? 
 
 Or is it that the fresh influx of the life-power is 
 felt uncomprehendingly by one's little world (even as 
 the power of a new star is felt by our earth, years, 
 perhaps centuries, before its light can be perceived) ; 
 and that whom it can not attract it rouses to resistance ? 
 which also is surely providential. 
 
 Be this as it may nay, as it certainly is it was not
 
 184: FKOM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 long before Cyril Deane was singled out as an object 
 of attack by those " troops of Midian " who " prowl and 
 prowl around," as the hymn tells us. For a while he 
 was altogether unconscious of it. 
 
 On the morning after Mrs. Shryock's funeral he 
 found Meta alone in the study a cosy place enough, 
 with its paneled walls, and a cheerful fire of soft coal 
 blazing in the grate. She wore a warm, loose robe of 
 brown woolen stuff, with reflets of crimson for the 
 horrors of " deep mourning " she would now have none 
 of and the dancing flames awoke shimmers of gold in 
 the brown hair, which, smoothly braided, fell over her 
 shoulders and clustered in soft rings upon her white 
 forehead. Upon her knee lay a book, which she closed 
 as she gave her hand to Cyril. 
 
 " You are better ? " he said, as he sat down. 
 
 " Much better," she said. " I have been reading 
 have you read this ? It explains so many things." 
 
 He took the volume, glanced at its title, and re- 
 turned it to her gravely. " I have read it," he said. 
 " It helps you ? How, if I may ask." 
 
 " Surely you may ask," she said. " It helps me to 
 understand myself, and all that has happened this 
 doctrine of Karma. I see now that Arthur and I could 
 never have married. I do not know why ; but possibly 
 in some previous incarnation we had so touched each 
 other's lives that it was impossible our Karma for- 
 bade it." 
 
 " Only possibly ? " he said.
 
 THE EDGE OF THE WILDERNESS. 185 
 
 " Well, certainly ; though we can not know the 
 details unless we come to be adepts. There is some- 
 thing to work for, Mr. Deane." 
 
 " Yes," he said, though his heart ached for her ; 
 " and in the mean time you are content and happy, be- 
 lieving this on the testimony of those who are adepts." 
 
 " Why, it has all been revealed to them," she said. 
 " They have seen it all upon the astral plane that 
 fourth dimension of which Fritz and I used to talk so 
 glibly." 
 
 " That is, in trance," he said. " You know more of 
 trance than I. Are its visions always objective, or are 
 they limited by the memory and imagination of the 
 trance subject and the mesmerizer, if any ? " 
 
 " But I am so untrained," she said. " One can not 
 argue from my poor, unscientific attempts. That is 
 why they made me ill ; they were unscientifically man- 
 aged." 
 
 " And so you mean to set about it scientifically this 
 time?" 
 
 " I shall study," she said, " and grow stronger. Mr. 
 Merton encourages me to hope that true visions will 
 come to me in time that I may become a seeress. He 
 thinks it is, of course, only a guess that in my last 
 incarnation I may have been possessed of great occult 
 knowledge which I used for a bad purpose ; but he 
 thinks, or hopes, that the bad Karma is now exhausted, 
 and that I shall spring forward rapidly and regain all 
 my lost power and insight."
 
 186 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 She looked so fair, so fragile, so innocent and child- 
 ish as she spoke, that Cyril's heart throbbed with a great 
 pain. " And how is your brother ? " he said. 
 
 With a quick movement she laid the book aside, sat 
 up more erectly, and spoke with a quicker accent and a 
 new light in her eyes : " Hugh ? Oh, he is so much bet- 
 ter ! he is like another boy. Even in these few days he 
 has grown stouter, or I fancy so. But there is really a 
 color in his cheek. You should see him ; but he has 
 gone to see your friend Mr. Gold. Mr. Merton says 
 that his magnetism is wholesome for Hugh, and that 
 his kind of Christianity is not a bad introduction to the 
 truth." 
 
 " His magnetism and his Christianity are one the 
 love of Christ," said Cyril. 
 
 She looked at him vaguely ; it was an unknown 
 tongue. He had no heart to discuss more theosophy 
 with her. He rose to go, but a look so like blank dis- 
 appointment came over the beautiful face, that he said, 
 as he touched her hand, " Why not let him come to see 
 you, one of these days ? " 
 
 " Mr. Gold ? " she said. 
 
 "Yes. We Christians see visions also, you know, 
 though not in trance at least not now, until we better 
 know what trance is. And his vision of the heavenly 
 things is so clear, so real, he may be able to help you." 
 
 She shook her head smilingly. " I have passed be- 
 yond him," she said ; " he could only tell me what I 
 already know. Besides, I have all the help I need."
 
 THE EDGE OP THE WILDERNESS. 187 
 
 He bowed silently and left her, standing, drawn up 
 to her fullest height, with a flush upon her cheek and a 
 sparkle in her eye, which he was too grieved to try to 
 analyze. But Nastasia, coming in a few moments later, 
 found her lying back in her chair, with great tears steal- 
 ing from under her closed eyelids. 
 
 " Who done hurt my lamb now ? " said the old 
 woman indignantly. She looked ten years older. Her 
 tall form was bowed and shrunken with weakness ; her 
 skin was like charred and wrinkled paper upon which a 
 layer of fine ashes has fallen. 
 
 She gathered the girl into her arms. " May be de 
 good Marster know bes'," she said, " but 'pears like he 
 mought spar' ole Nastasia a while longer to ten' to you, 
 honey. Who dat made you cry? Not dat blessed 
 young Marse Cyril, was it ? " 
 
 But Meta would not tell her ; she would only lay her 
 brown head upon the withered shoulder, and sob : " 
 Nastasia, don't speak of dying, when I have only you ! " 
 
 " Ain't you got Marse Hugh, honey ? and ain't he 
 de Lawd's lamb for you to ten' to when Nastasia's 
 gone ? " 
 
 " But I am tired tired, Nastasia. I want some 
 one to take care of me." 
 
 " All of us likes dat, honey, mighty well. But when 
 we is taken keer of well, dat's only like us ; but when 
 we takes keer of other folks, dat's like him" said the 
 old woman thoughtfully. 
 
 Meta scarcely seemed to hear her ; but in a moment
 
 188 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 she dried her eyes and said, more cheerfully : " Such a 
 beautiful winter day, and we have neither of us been 
 out ! Put on your things, Nastasia, and we will go and 
 meet Hugh." 
 
 The girl did not understand herself at this period 
 any more than others understood her. Cyril's visits 
 were frequent. She looked forward to them feverishly, 
 yet when he came she was apt to be cold and disap- 
 pointing. Sometimes, on the plea of illness, she refused 
 to see him at all ; then she would listen, within her open 
 door, for the faintest echo of his voice, and when he had 
 gone would cry herself into a headache in good earnest. 
 
 " It is a transition state," said Francis Merton one 
 day, when she had snubbed him very severely, for her 
 temper at this period was by no means angelic ; " it is 
 the good and evil Karma that are struggling for influ- 
 ence over her." 
 
 Meanwhile Cyril went steadily on with his round of 
 accustomed duties his church services, visits to the 
 sick, his studies, and his Bible-class performing all 
 very thoroughly and conscientiously, yet always with an 
 aching heart, whose every throb said " Meta ! Meta ! " 
 
 In his talks with Felix Gold he found strength and 
 comfort, and they were often together. His visits to the 
 Hermitage were a mingled joy and torture ; and all of 
 this absorbed him so entirely, that he did not hear a 
 murmur of tongues in the air, buzzing about and defil- 
 ing his fail name. 
 
 There were fewer visitors to his rooms, fewer trays,
 
 THE EDGE OF THE WILDERNESS. 189 
 
 white-napkin covered, to lessen the labor of his house- 
 keeping. Some who had professed much passed him 
 with averted eyes or a chill bow ; others showed a cer- 
 tain effusion of friendliness that would have puzzled 
 him had not his heart been so sore as to make it only 
 welcome. 
 
 It was a falling off in the number of attendants at 
 his Bible-class that first roused him to the perception 
 that something was wrong. There had been two or 
 three days of storm that had accounted for the dimin- 
 ished numbers. At last came a clear, crisp, sparkling 
 winter afternoon, when he found that only Nina Lyd- 
 gate and the young lady in spectacles had ventured out ; 
 moreover, Nina's long neck was stiff Avith indignation, 
 and the eyes behind the spectacles were red, as if their 
 owner had been weeping. 
 
 Cyril made no comment, but gave the lesson as care- 
 fully as if the full number had been present. When it 
 was over, he went straight to Dr. Lydgate. 
 
 " Yes, I feared you'd be coming to me soon," said 
 the doctor. " Trouble ? Of course there's trouble, espe- 
 cially to me. Haven't I had a committee of the vestry 
 to wait on me, and all on your account ? " 
 
 " Indeed, I am very sorry," said Cyril. 
 
 " So am I. I had to request them to mind their 
 own business, and that's a very unpleasant thing to do." 
 
 " It was very kind of you, sir." 
 
 " Well, you know I forewarned you to be ready to 
 fight it out, and fight you must that's all."
 
 190 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " Then it was" 
 
 " Faith cure and spiritualism, of course," said the 
 doctor. " I told them I believed you to be a good man 
 and true, and that you had influenced the spiritualists 
 to give up their spiritualism. That pacified them a bit, 
 until one of them thought to ask if you meant to marry 
 the I mean Miss Leonard ? " And the rector shot a 
 keen glance from under his gray eyelashes. 
 
 Cyril flushed with pain. " I I fear no such hap- 
 piness is in store for me," he said. 
 
 " Humph ! " But Dr. Lydgate was too shrewd 
 to speak all his thought. " She may have cared for 
 Arthur more than I supposed her capable of doing," he 
 said. " But it would never have done for them to 
 marry two temperaments inclined to morbidness, you 
 know. Yours is healthful enough, but However, if 
 she doesn't care for you, that about settles it. But why 
 do you go there so often ? " 
 
 " I scarcely know," said Cyril. 
 
 " Of course not ; they never do know," said the 
 doctor. " Take my advice, then, Deane, and keep 
 away; not to gratify the gossips, but for your own 
 sake." 
 
 " I will think it over, sir." 
 
 " Humph ! I know how tliat will end," said the doc- 
 tor. "Well, this is only the beginning of troubles. 
 How do you feel about it ? " 
 
 " I have done nothing wrong, sir ; but, of course I 
 can resign, if you wish it."
 
 THE EDGE OF THE WILDERNESS. 191 
 
 " And go to C ? " naming the mission station 
 
 which had been the young man's original aim. 
 
 " I think not, sir. For the present, at least, I should 
 remain in Fairtown." 
 
 " Then you had better not resign. I think I can 
 keep the vestry and the bishop off you a while longer." 
 
 " You are only too kind to me." 
 
 " Well, you see I trust you," said the rector. " You 
 may not be the wisest man in the world, and yet well, 
 this theory of vitalism rather impresses one. Of course 
 it is only a theory, and has got to be demonstrated ; but 
 I'm not going to meddle with the demonstrations 
 that's all. You be sure you're right, though, and then 
 go ahead, and I'll back you up. Only, you know, vital- 
 ism well, it's only vitality spiritual vitality " 
 
 " If we know what vitality is," said Cyril. " I did 
 not coin the word vitalism; it is in the dictionaries, 
 though rarely used. The International Webster defines 
 it as ' the doctrine thut all the functions of a living 
 organism are due to an unknown vital principle, dis- 
 tinct from all physical and chemical forces.' " 
 
 " Well, that's got to be proved, too," said the doctor. 
 " It's a pretty practical doctrine, anyhow, and a whole- 
 some one, this vitalism draws a sharp line between 
 right and wrong, you see ; as, for instance, in the matter 
 of turning the left cheek, and so on. We should not 
 need to ask if it be wrong to strike back, for evidently 
 it lowers the vitalism of the system." 
 
 " And it explains how one's first duty is to save his
 
 192 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 own soul that is, to fill it throbbing through and 
 through with life, that may be imparted to the souls of 
 others." 
 
 " But it doesn't admit of any insincerity or self-de- 
 ception, which is the point I was trying to get at," said 
 the doctor. " I do not doubt you, Deane, and am more 
 than willing to stand by you to the last gasp ; but the 
 pitfall in the way of all you enthusiasts is self-deception, 
 and it is right that I should warn you of it. Don't try 
 to walk too far or too fast by the inner light, until you 
 are sure you can tell it from an ignis fatuus that's all. 
 Beware of mistaking self-will for a mission from heaven ; 
 self-pleasing, for the will of God." 
 
 " I wonder what would be the test, if one had al- 
 ready unconsciously wandered from the way?" said 
 Cyril thoughtfully, too simply intent on heeding the 
 warning even to thank the warner. 
 
 The doctor glanced at him again, with a keenness of 
 insight which did not exclude a sort of reverence. 
 
 " Humph ! " he said ; " no fear of that ; it would be 
 sure to tell. Impatience of advice or reproof, conceit, 
 obstinacy the hardest things in the world to make a 
 man conscious of, and the easiest for him to find out for 
 himself." 
 
 " The worst of it is that no one can advise one," 
 said Cyril. " And and about Miss Leonard doctor, I 
 have a sort of of feeling of course, as you say, it may 
 be an ignis fatuus, but I feel as though I were set to 
 watch over her, that I may be of use to her some day
 
 THE EDGE OP THE WILDERNESS. 193 
 
 all the more disinterestedly of use, because she doesn't 
 love me." 
 
 " Oh ! Then, in that case, do as you think right," 
 said the doctor. 
 
 When Cyril had left him the rector with the pen 
 in hand, which he had taken up from force of habit as 
 soon as he found himself alone, delivered himself up 
 to a profound meditation, from which he was roused 
 by the entrance of his wife. 
 
 " Well, Dr. Lydgate," she said, " did you accept that 
 fellow's resignation ? " 
 
 " What fellow ? " asked her husband, gazing at her 
 placidly over his spectacles. 
 
 " That man who has been turning the parish upside 
 down that Deane." 
 
 " Oh ! Deane ? Well, resignation is an excellent 
 thing to have for family uses ; but he needed all his, so 
 I did not ask him for it." 
 
 " Dr. Lydgate, you are enough to try the patience 
 of Job!" 
 
 " Yes, my dear, I dare say I am." 
 
 " Do you mean to tell me that you intend to keep on 
 with this" 
 
 " Tonic ? " asked the rector. 
 
 " man, Deane, when you know that he is bringing 
 disgrace on the Church " 
 
 " So much the worse for the Church," said the 
 doctor. 
 
 " with his spiritualism and nonsense," finished the 
 13
 
 194: FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 lady, persistent, though a trifle disconcerted by her 
 husband's interruptions. 
 
 " If it is nonsense, there is no good in minding it," 
 said the doctor. 
 
 " Unfortunately, it is worse than nonsense, Dr. Lyd- 
 gate ; and you know it. " 
 
 " No, my dear," returned the rector tranquilly ; 
 " there I join issue with you. I do not know it ; but 
 what I do know is, that you are meddling with matters 
 entirely out of your sphere. Parish affairs are my busi- 
 ness, and not yours, and I should be exceedingly obliged 
 if you would kindly remember it. Do I interfere in the 
 management of your household ? " 
 
 " You have never had reason to do so," returned his 
 wife proudly. "At all events, I am not out of my 
 sphere in controlling my own daughter ; and I say most 
 positively that Nina shall never go to that man's Bible- 
 class again." 
 
 The doctor caught his lip in his teeth, and made a 
 little sound of vexation. It had been many years since 
 he had been compelled to establish this division of terri- 
 tory with his wife, and the plan had worked fairly well. 
 He had at least maintained his own rights, and no 
 amount of interference on his part could have made her 
 government of the family more loving or genial, while 
 for external machinery her rule was unimpeachable. 
 
 "But, Eleanor," he said presently, "Nina is not 
 only your daughter but mine, you must remember ; and 
 for the rector's family to draw back from Deane now "
 
 THE EDGE OF THE WILDERNESS. 195 
 
 " I have nothing to do with that, Dr. Lydgate ; I 
 must consider Nina. The little idiot is upon the point 
 of falling in love with him now. If he gave her any 
 encouragement, she would be quite crazy about him. 
 But, to do him justice, he is too infatuated with the 
 Leonard girl, and he looks upon Nina as a child." 
 
 " So she is," said the doctor. " Love ! What do they 
 know of love at that age ? But I wouldn't let her fancy 
 him persecuted, if I were you." 
 
 " There you have one reason for his leaving the par- 
 ish. She does fancy him persecuted now, and to have 
 him under her nose perpetually " 
 
 " Well, don't try to force her into joining the ranks 
 of the persecutors," said the doctor, " even in appear- 
 ance. That is my very strenuous advice to you, Elea- 
 nor." 
 
 " I shall certainly forbid her going to the class next 
 week. Of course, if you choose to set your authority 
 against mine " 
 
 " We shall see when next week comes," said the doc- 
 tor, taking up his pen. " In the mean time I have my 
 sermon to write, and if you will be good enough to ex- 
 cuse me, my dear " 
 
 He was always good-natured and courteous ; it was 
 the only way to manage, as he often said. If he had 
 worried himself over the state of Nina's young affec- 
 tions, he would have been unable to write his sermon, 
 which was his means of earning a livelihood, and clearly 
 his first duty. And the habit of putting all disagree-
 
 196 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 ables out of his mind as far as possible was so strong 
 upon him that the matter did not recur until the day 
 came round again on which the class had been accus- 
 tomed to meet. 
 
 Mrs. Lydgate, in her heart, respected her husband's 
 advice, and stood, in addition, a little in awe of the new 
 self-poise that had come to her once wild, harum- 
 scarum daughter. She did not understand it, but it 
 impressed her in spite of herself, and she was willing to 
 defer her prohibition, hoping that the day might prove 
 inclement or Nina have a cold, to afford an excuse for it. 
 
 But, by the decrees of an inscrutable Providence, the 
 sun had never been brighter or Nina better. Mrs. 
 Lydgate felt that a life-time of strict attention to duty 
 had deserved a stronger partisanship from the celestial 
 powers ; their indifference jarred upon her finest feel- 
 ings, and perhaps imparted a degree of acerbity to her 
 conversation with Nina. 
 
 For the rector was interrupted again in his sermon 
 writing by a tap at his door, and looked up to find his 
 youngest daughter standing before him. 
 
 " Bless my soul ! how pretty the child is growing ! " 
 was his first thought. 
 
 Her tall form had still a remnant of the lankiness of 
 early girlhood, but at this moment, as she stood drawn 
 proudly to her full height, yet trembling in spite of 
 herself, and leaning one hand upon the mantel for sup- 
 port, it was full of grace and dignity. Her features 
 were not strictly regular, but there was a flush upon her
 
 THE EDGE OF THE WILDERNESS. 197 
 
 dark cheek and a sparkle in her eyes that made her 
 almost beautiful, and impressed very strongly upon her 
 father that he had to deal with a woman and not a child. 
 
 "Well, my dear?" 
 
 " Papa" Nina's voice shook a little, in spite of her- 
 self ; she paused a moment to steady it " papa, mam- 
 ma has forbidden me to go to Mr. Deane's Bible-class 
 this afternoon." 
 
 " Has she, my dear ? " 
 
 " Yes, papa, because people are unkind enough to 
 talk about him. As if I cared for that ! " with fine 
 scorn. 
 
 " There is no reason to care, my dear, unless they 
 speak the truth." 
 
 " You do not believe it, papa, or you would not have 
 refused to ask him to resign." 
 
 " I may not thoroughly approve of his course, not- 
 withstanding, Nina ; but for me to throw him over- 
 board just now would blight his whole life." 
 
 Nina looked at him keenly. 
 
 "And if I hold back from him, will not people 
 infer that you disapprove of him ? " she said. 
 
 " Dear me ! " said the rector, " you hold back, in- 
 deed ! What weight do you suppose attaches to the 
 countenance of a young monkey like you ? " 
 
 " A great deal, papa, since I am your daughter." 
 
 " But, my dear, it isn't exactly a woman's place I 
 mean a child's to pose as a man's champion, let him 
 be ever so maligned."
 
 198 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " I think you do mean a child's," said Nina steadily. 
 I am not a child any more, papa, and I do not see why, 
 if a woman thinks a man all that is good and noble, she 
 should not say so, when other people are saying just the 
 reverse." 
 
 " But if she only gets herself talked about ? " 
 
 " I shouldn't do anything to make people talk. I 
 should only go on as I have been doing all this while. 
 You see, papa, there is no reason for changing unless I 
 think ill of him, as I assuredly do not." 
 
 " And yet, Nina, there is a certain amount of truth 
 in the talk about him. He has consorted with some 
 rather odd characters, and has taken part in what are 
 called sectarian services " 
 
 " You don't disapprove of that, papa ? " 
 
 " My disapprobation is neither here nor there," said 
 the rector. " He doesn't disapprove of it himself, but 
 other people do. Besides I do not feel that I am vio- 
 lating his confidence in speaking of this to such a warm 
 friend as you are, my dear ; but, of course, you will not 
 speak of it again he is, I am sorry to say, very much 
 in love with Miss Leonard ; very much in love." 
 
 Nina flushed up to her forehead, but the steadiness 
 of her gaze did not waver. " I know it," she said ; 
 " those girls would never have forsaken him like this if 
 it had not been for her. They say they could stand 
 anything else, but when it came to falling in love with 
 a medium, it was too disgusting. Papa, do you think 
 she mesmerized him ? "
 
 THE EDGE OF THE WILDERNESS. 199 
 
 " No, I don't," said the doctor, " it is quite the 
 other way ; he is afraid of mesmerizing her." 
 
 Nina nodded. " I know," she said, " he does, in a 
 way. One can not think wrong things or feel wrongly 
 where he is. He lifts one up, some way or other " 
 
 "Vitalizes one?" 
 
 " Why, that's it, exactly," said the girl, delightedly. 
 " But why doesn't he want to vitalize her f " 
 
 " He does, poor fellow ; but you can perhaps under' 
 stand, my dear, that the smallest admixture of self- 
 will or self -pleasing is not vitalizing, but mortiferous. 
 There ! there's another technicality for him ! " cried the 
 doctor. 
 
 " I understand," said Nina. " Just because he loves 
 her, he can not try too hard to influence her ; because 
 he might turn her toward himself instead of to Christ." 
 
 " Bless my soul ! " said her father ; " where did you 
 learn so much ? " 
 
 " Oh, he sets one to thinking, always," said Nina, 
 " Papa, there must be something very nice about Meta 
 Leonard. First, Arthur loved her, and now Mr. Deane." 
 
 " There used to be," said the doctor. 
 
 Nina did not speak for a moment, then she said : 
 " Papa, do you forbid me to go to that class ? " 
 
 " My dear, you know I never interfere with your 
 mother's rules." 
 
 " But would you have forbidden it if she had not ? " 
 
 " I do not see why I should." 
 
 " And do you not think, papa, that for me to stay
 
 200 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 away will create the impression that you are against 
 him?" 
 
 " I think," said the rector, " that it would have been 
 better if I had announced from the chancel, last Sun- 
 day, that the class would be discontinued for the pres- 
 ent. I shall speak to Deane about it." 
 
 Nina moved toward the door ; but before she could 
 reach it her girlhood overcame her a sudden rush of 
 tears came to her eyes and blinded her. Convulsed 
 with grief and burning with shame for she had not 
 yet passed the period when tears are considered a very 
 childish proceeding Nina tore open the door, and, 
 rushing out in something of her old headlong fashion, 
 stumbled against a black figure outside, and found 
 herself the next moment in the arms of the stranger, 
 who proved to be the Eeverend Bennet Lane. 
 
 For a moment, between tears, surprise, consternation, 
 and laughter, she lay quite still, unable to move ; then 
 she tore herself from a clasp which, to do Mr. Lane jus- 
 tice, was eminently perfunctory, and sped away, while 
 her supporter entered the study in response to the rec- 
 tor's call.
 
 CHAPTEK VI. 
 
 " BETTER MAN", BETTEE PKIEST." 
 
 To say that the Keverend Bennet was surprised at 
 the burden so briefly laid upon him is to keep very far 
 within the limits of the truth. The strength of a ha- 
 bitual self-control enabled him to preserve a calm ex- 
 terior ; but as he walked into the doctor's study, and 
 took a chair, his celibate heart throbbed in a most unac- 
 customed manner, and he wiped his clerical brow with 
 his immaculate handkerchief. 
 
 " How are you, Lane ? " said the rector. " Can't 
 complain of a cold reception, hey?" and he roared 
 with laughter, in a most unfeeling manner, as it seemed 
 to his guest. 
 
 " I ah er Miss Nina had you been scolding her, 
 doctor ? How had you the heart to do it ? " said the 
 Eeverend Bennet, with an effort to cover his confusion 
 by facetiousness. 
 
 " Heart ? Oh, we have none at my time of life. 
 But the fact is, the child is heart-broken over this busi- 
 ness of Deane's ; wants to champion his cause before all 
 the world, and all that sort of thing, which, of course, 
 can't be allowed."
 
 202 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " Of course not," said the visitor promptly. He was 
 used to a great deal of a certain kind of intercourse 
 with young ladies; at Christmas-trees and in Sunday 
 school he saw them continually. It is true that none 
 of them had as yet thrown their arms about his neck ; 
 he had not consciously formulated to himself the fear 
 that they ever would. It was simply a matter of princi- 
 ple with him to he on his guard with them, inasmuch 
 as he never intended to marry the angelic life being, 
 as we all know, upon a much loftier spiritual plane than 
 the married. He was no coxscomb, but he could not 
 well help being aware of a certain feminine willingness 
 to make appointments with him, and to hold long con- 
 versations of a spiritual nature ; also to embroider slip- 
 pers for his feet and rests for his weary head, and gen- 
 erally to endow him with every conceivable sort of trifle 
 for which he had no conceivable use. 
 
 But here was a girl who gave him no chance to keep 
 her even literally at arm's length, who burst through 
 his guard and cast to the earth all his reserve, who 
 hurled herself into his arms with her heart in a tumult of 
 sorrow and her eyes a fountain of tears for another man ! 
 
 The Reverend Bennet Lane felt a queer feeling, as 
 little Lord Fauntleroy would say. He did not think 
 she was in love with the other man ; he was too well ac- 
 quainted with the type of emotion not to recognize it ; 
 but all this, and not for him ! It distinctly made him 
 feel a queer feeling. 
 
 " No," said the rector ; " and yet I hardly knew what
 
 "BETTER MAtf, BETTER PRIEST." 203 
 
 to say to her. A young, generous, innocent thing like 
 that ; one doesn't like to train and discipline her into con- 
 ventional selfishness but a girl of seventeen caii't be al- 
 lowed to come forward as a man's champion, you know." 
 
 " Why why it would be outrageous unheard of ! " 
 said Mr. Lane, stammering with eagerness. " What 
 how what does she mean to do ? " 
 
 In a few words the rector explained. " I wish I had 
 thought of it on Sunday," he said ; " a temporary dis- 
 continuance of the class is the most dignified course for 
 him at present." 
 
 " He refuses to give up that fellow Gold, does he ? " 
 asked the guest. 
 
 " To tell you the truth, I did not ask him. He is so 
 sincere and earnest, poor fellow, and he carries one 
 along, somehow." 
 
 " Ah er yes, probably. But about the class. It 
 meets this afternoon, does it not ? " 
 
 " What is left of it. Yes, I wish I had thought of 
 it; but well, well, Lane, when you come to be a 
 married man you will learn the value of a temporizing 
 and procrastinating policy. The worst is, that one gets 
 into the habit of it." 
 
 " I do not intend to marry," said Mr. Lane, rising 
 and drawing down the corners of his mouth. " Can I 
 take Deane any message from you, sir ? I am going to 
 his rooms. Perhaps some excuse can be found for this 
 afternoon." 
 
 " Ah ! the very thing," said the doctor. " There is
 
 204: FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 no use," he added to himself when the visitor had de- 
 parted, " in letting the child set herself in opposition to 
 her mother for nothing and before her time comes," but 
 whether so to set herself or no, was just what that 
 young lady had not determined. 
 
 " Which was right ? " She could not make up her 
 mind either to desert Cyril or to fly in the face of her 
 mother's orders. 
 
 However, one thing was clearly right namely, to go 
 and call upon the spectacled young lady. " For it 
 would be dreadful to let Susie go there and be the only 
 one," said Nina to herself. 
 
 As she passed her mother's door, in hat and cloak, 
 Mrs. Lydgate called to know where she was going. 
 " To Susie's," said Nina. " If I don't go to the class, I 
 must keep her from going. She would not like to be 
 the only one there." 
 
 Her mother offered no more objections, and Nina 
 passed on, saying to herself despairingly : " I am afraid 
 that settles it. If I were to go there now, mamma 
 would think to the end of her days that I had told a 
 deliberate lie." 
 
 The spectacled young lady was in bed with a nervous 
 headache, as it turned out ; but she sent for Nina to 
 come up-stairs. " Oh ! you dear thing ! " she said faint- 
 ly, from the midst of blankets, camphor-cloths, and hot- 
 water bags, " it's just a special providence that you've 
 come ! Do tell that saint and martyr that it's not my 
 fault if I seem to desert him."
 
 "BETTER MAN, BETTER PRIEST." 205 
 
 " But, Susie, how can I go there alone ? " 
 
 " Nina, don't be a coward ! As if there were 
 any harm in it ! " 
 
 " Of course there is no harm, except that mamma 
 forbids my going " 
 
 Ever any more ? " cried Susie, starting up in bed, 
 to the utter neglect of the hot- water bag, which avenged 
 itself by sliding down the pillow to the small of her back. 
 
 " Ever any more," said Nina tearfully. 
 
 Susie sank back upon her pillows, pressing her 
 hands to her temples, in an attitude of very real 
 anguish : " Oh, my head ! " she moaned. " I can't 
 talk." 
 
 " Don't try," said Nina. She rescued the water bag, 
 rearranged pillows and blankets, and poured a fresh 
 supply of camphor on her friend's handkerchief ; but 
 all with a fainting heart. As she would have left the 
 room silently and cautiously, Susie put forth a hot 
 hand and held her fast. 
 
 " Don't give in to your mother," she said ; " she 
 doesn't understand. Go ! don't desert him, whatever 
 you do. Do you promise ? " 
 
 " I promise to do right, if I can," said Nina. " I 
 don't seem to know what that is, Susie." 
 
 " It's right to stand by the oppressed and maligned ! " 
 gasped the spectacled young lady. She looked very 
 young and very wild without her spectacles, and with 
 her near-sighted eyes frowning from beneath a camphor 
 bandage, and her luxuriant hair all abroad over the pil-
 
 206 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 lows. Nina was half afraid of her. " You'll not be a 
 coward and desert him," she said, grasping Nina's hand 
 very tight. 
 
 "I'll not be a coward, and I'll not desert him," said 
 Nina categorically. " You mustn't talk now, dear. 
 Good-by," she added hurriedly. 
 
 But Nina was not at all decided as to the limits of 
 desertion and cowardice in her own case. Of course, 
 Mr. Deane would not think of giving the lesson to her 
 alone. Could she not go and tell him of Susie's indis- 
 position, and so leave the question open for another 
 week ? But then it would be a thing that could not be 
 mentioned at home ; she should feel underhanded and 
 mean, she said to herself energetically. Besides, Mr. 
 Deane how should she face him, burdened with con- 
 scious wrong-doing, even though he should never find 
 out. But find out ? That was indeed a lame and impo- 
 tent conclusion, when she should, of course, go straight 
 and tell him. Arguing thus with herself, she came to 
 the corner where she would have had to turn to reach 
 the church. But she kept straight on, and in so doing 
 passed another corner in her own life. At the next 
 turning, which was close by the rectory, she once more 
 encountered the Eeverend Bennet Lane. 
 
 " I did not run into you this time," she said, laugh- 
 ing and blushing a good deal. 
 
 " Your father told me you were troubled about our 
 friend Mr. Deane," he said ; and it became quite clear 
 to the Reverend Bennet at the moment that unless he
 
 "BETTER MAN, BETTER PRIEST." 207 
 
 should turn back to the rectory with Miss Nina her 
 maidenly delicacy would imagine that he had attached 
 more weight to their previous collision than was actu- 
 ally the case, and be seriously hurt and wounded. " I 
 think with the help of his friends he will live it down," 
 he went on, as he walked beside her. 
 
 " And, oh, are you one of his friends ? Are you on 
 his side ? " 
 
 " Indeed, I am his friend," said Mr. Lane with cau- 
 tious fervor, for he could not truthfully call himself on 
 Cyril's side. 
 
 " Then I wish you were the bishop ; but you are 
 only a curate, aren't you ? '' 
 
 " That's all," he said humbly. 
 
 " Well, any way, it's very good of you ; for you 
 can't really sympathize with him, since you think it so 
 wrong for a clergyman to marry." 
 
 " Ah er a but you know that is entirely personal, 
 Miss Nina. I may er not choose to marry myself, 
 but I would not lay down the law for others. Besides 
 oh ! I don't think it wrong, you know ; there is no 
 law binding a priest of the English or American Church. 
 At most, it is merely a question of expediency and 
 as his high-church conscience smote him " of the coun- 
 sels of perfection." 
 
 " Oh h ! " said Nina. " Well, I thought you thought 
 it wrong. By the by, shall you see Mr. Deane this after- 
 noon ? " 
 
 " I am going directly there, when I have "
 
 208 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " Oh ! Don't turn out of your way on my account," 
 said Nina. " Will you tell him that Susie Prond has a 
 bad headache, and I " 
 
 " Yes, yes, I'll tell him," he broke in, as she hesitated. 
 
 "I wanted to come, but couldn't," finished Nina. 
 " I wonder now how I could have hesitated. But, do 
 you know, it really seemed almost my duty to take his 
 part, even if I had to be deceitful and disobedient at 
 home." 
 
 " And what showed you your real duty ? " he asked, 
 glancing with furtive admiration at the girl's bright 
 face. 
 
 " His own goodness," she said. " I could not do a 
 wrong thing for his sake ; he would rather die. Or, if 
 I did the thing, I could not look him in the face with- 
 out telling him all about it. It is so strange, Mr. Lane, 
 how telling him of a wrong thing seems to take it en- 
 tirely away from one's conscience. He never scolds nor 
 preaches ; but one simply does not want to do that 
 wrong thing again even the temptation is gone. Do 
 you suppose that may be the origin of confession ? " 
 
 " But Deane is not in priest's orders," he said, with 
 a gasping clutch at the only portion of her speech he 
 had understood. 
 
 " I don't see that that matters, if he can forgive 
 sins," said Nina. 
 
 But but " 
 
 " I'm not talking theology, but hard sense," said the 
 girl coolly. " Aren't my sins forgiven if I don't want
 
 "BETTER MAN, BETTER PRIEST." 209 
 
 to sin any more ? And if Mr. Deane, merely by being 
 so good, makes me ashamed and afraid to do anything 
 wrong, doesn't he forgive me every bit as much as you 
 could, by saying absolvo te ? More, perhaps, because I 
 might confess to you and do the same thing over again ; 
 but with him, I couldn't at least, not so easily." 
 
 " I dare say not. Oh ! I do not pretend to be why 
 Deane, you know, is a man in whom the spiritual life 
 has attained wonderful development. I ! Well, I'm 
 only a common sort of fellow ; but that doesn't touch 
 the fact that I am a priest, and he isn't. I have power 
 and authority to celebrate the blessed sacrament and 
 to to pronounce absolution ; and he hasn't, as yet." 
 
 " Well, he does it just the same oh ! I don't mean 
 the holy communion," said the girl ; " and he wouldn't 
 without authority, you know. Why, that's what obe- 
 dience means not to act without authority, isn't it? 
 But, as to priest's orders, if the power the apostles had 
 to forgive sins were just the same as Mr. Deane's and 
 I dare say it was, for our Lord said, ' Whosesoever sins 
 ye remit, they are remitted unto them ' and it is just 
 so with him why, what is the use of priest's orders, 
 any way ? Isn't he just as good a priest as you ? " 
 
 " Better in that way," said Bennet Lane, with a 
 melancholy smile. He took her hand, for they had now 
 reached the rectory. " Good-by," he said ; " I will do 
 all I can for Deane, you know. Don't you worry." 
 
 " Oh ! I won't," said Nina easily. But she looked 
 
 after him kindly. " He's a funny sort of a man, but 
 14
 
 210 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 it's rather nice of him to take Mr. Deane's part, when 
 he thinks so differently," she said to herself. 
 
 While Bennet Lane as he walked away, not quite 
 with his usual briskness, felt once more within his arms 
 the trembling, fluttering, palpitating form that had 
 rested there so brief a space, but to such large following. 
 The memory thrilled him from head to foot ; then, with 
 the sharpest pang of remorse he had ever known, came 
 the words : " I might confess to you and do the same 
 thing over again, but with him I couldn't at least, not 
 so easily." There was truth in it ; he must admit that. 
 No doubt the personal character of the priest what a 
 fine character hers was, by the by ! How true, steadfast, 
 and self-sacrificing ! 
 
 He gave Cyril the rector's note, and told him of 
 Miss Frond's headache with painstaking conscientious- 
 ness. Then he went away to his clergy house, without 
 the heart to read his friend the lecture he had intended, 
 whereat Cyril, whose heart had sunk at sight of the 
 reverend countenance, did mightily rejoice. 
 
 " Something's bothered him," he said, with imme- 
 diate compunction. " Poor old chap ! " 
 
 The something was the beating of a girlish heart 
 against his own, the direct gaze of a pair of frank, 
 sweet, brown eyes, and a voice saying : " I could not do 
 a wrong thing for his sake ; he would rather die. Why 
 isn't he as good a priest as you ? " 
 
 " Better much better ! " he repeated, with a groan.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 " THE WING OF THE DESTROYER." 
 
 " IT is unfortunate about the class," Dr. Lydgate 
 had said, as he gave Mr. Lane the note to Cyril, " es- 
 pecially unfortunate just at this time, as I want to keep 
 the boy busy, so busy that he will have no time for 
 faith-cure and all the rest of it." 
 
 "It is always so," replied the Reverend Bennet 
 sadly ; " the very remedies one would use in any special 
 case are made impossible by the world's uncharity. But 
 Deane is a fortunate fellow in one respect, sir ; it is not 
 every rector who would be as forbearing as you are, or 
 as considerate." 
 
 " Well, you know, when I am with him the fellow's 
 enthusiasm carries me along, and I almost believe in his 
 vitalism, as he calls it," said Dr. Lydgate. " And, after 
 all, you know, there is a good deal in it, and would be 
 more but for the very uncharity you speak of. It isn't 
 only unfaith that prevents the working of miracles ; it 
 is because they require a long pull and a strong pull 
 and a pull altogether, and that we are too disunited to 
 give." 
 
 " It was when the disciples were ' all together in one
 
 212 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 place,' on the day of Pentecost, that the Holy Ghost 
 fell upon them," said Bennet Lane. " You are quite 
 right, Dr. Lydgate; the days of miracles can never 
 return until the reunion of Christendom has been 
 accomplished. That is why it is so absurd for a fellow 
 like this Gold a schismatic and heretic to pretend to 
 do anything of the sort." 
 
 " Humph," said Dr. Lydgate, " I wouldn't get my- 
 self between the horns of that dilemma if I were 
 you. Either he does not work these cures, or he is 
 not a schismatic; and but if we get into an argu- 
 ment on that point, I may as well send my note by 
 post, if you will excuse me for saying so."' 
 
 The rector said afterward that Providence had 
 taken out of his hands the question of employment for 
 Cyril. It proved to be a sickly winter. Scarlet fever, 
 diphtheria, and kindred diseases had been prevalent for 
 months among the children; and now came such an 
 outbreak of small-pox as had not scourged the city for 
 twenty years. The public schools were closed, the 
 churches well-nigh deserted ; men shunned the society 
 of their nearest friends lest they should give or receive 
 infection. 
 
 " We poison one another every day with our sins," 
 said Felix Gold mournfully, " nor for that do we fear 
 the face of our brother; but to poison the blood, so 
 that the hidden corruption breaks forth in loathsome 
 sores ; ah ! that we do both fear and flee. Is it not so, 
 Cyril?"
 
 "THE WING OF THE DESTROYER." 213 
 
 " It is the result of unlovingness, and breeds its own 
 kind," said Cyril. " Those set to watch for the health 
 of the city have been false to their charge ; or rather 
 no charge was laid upon them. They were appointed 
 under the spoils system, the great national grab-game 
 of devil take the hindmost; they have kept their 
 pledges, to draw their pay and work for the party, 
 and the devil is now fulfilling his part of the con- 
 tract." 
 
 The disease was particularly virulent in the badly 
 drained malodorous section in which the " Nineteenth 
 Century Mission " was situated, though scarcely a street 
 in the city was exempt ; as in the plague which once 
 fell upon Egypt, there was almost literally not a house 
 in which there was not one dead, or ill at the least. In 
 the abodes of the rich, husbands forsook their wives, 
 and wives their husbands, at the approach of the de- 
 stroyer; fathers left their children to die alone, and 
 mothers no ! mothers gathered their babes into their 
 arms, kissed the poison from their little fevered lips, 
 and died with them ! 
 
 But the poor died in throngs every day. It was 
 hard to get hearses enough even to bury the rich, and 
 well-nigh impossible to find nurses for either rich or 
 poor. The physicians heaven bless them ! worked 
 night and day; the clergy, without regard to creed, 
 were here, there, and everywhere ; the sisterhoods, both 
 Roman and Protestant, did work which would have 
 seemed impossible for ten times their numerical, and a
 
 214 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 hundred times their physical, strength ; but the disease 
 held its own. 
 
 Among the hardest, most earnest workers were 
 Felix Gold, his wife, and Cyril Deane. 
 
 " So you don't undertake to cure small-pox by 
 faith only ? " said sneeringly a newly fledged physician 
 who, in the early part of the epidemic, came upon the 
 young evangelist and healer administering the medi- 
 cine he had prescribed. 
 
 " Not by faith only" said Felix Gold, turning his 
 luminous dark eyes upon the questioner. " Never- 
 theless, friend, tell me this : Can your physic only 
 cure this evil while the sewers and vaults about us con- 
 tinue to belch forth poison ? " 
 
 " Any fool can answer that question," returned the 
 doctor. 
 
 At the moment the door was thrown suddenly and 
 violently open to admit a white-haired urchin of about 
 six years, who, clinging to Gold's knees, sobbed out a 
 petition that he would come to daddy, who was " so 
 sick, and swearing awful." 
 
 With the boy in his arms, Felix Gold turned to the 
 doctor. "Come," he said, with a look of strange au- 
 thority. 
 
 In a room on the next floor they found the mother 
 of the child, who was indeed no other than the woman 
 who had gone up for healing on the evening of Cyril's 
 first visit to the mission. 
 
 The room was as clean as hands could make it, but
 
 "THE WING OF THE DESTROYER." 215 
 
 infected with the imsavoriness of the rest of the house ; 
 and on the bed lay a huge animal-like man, with the 
 flushed face and glaring eyes of delirium, raving and 
 cursing like a madman. 
 
 The physician shook his head. " Suppressed small- 
 pox," he said. " He has taken cold or something, and 
 the disease has gone to his brain instead of coming out 
 properly on his skin." 
 
 " He keeps the bar at the corner, you know," said 
 the wife. " I suppose he took it from the money he had 
 to handle ; and then, being drunk, and lying outside the 
 door in the rain and snow all night Mr. Gold, 
 can't you save him ? " 
 
 " God Almighty himself could scarcely well," 
 said the doctor, as he met Felix Gold's eyes ; " one 
 doesn't know what He can do, but I doubt if any one 
 else, quack or regular practitioner, can do much for 
 him. However, one can but try, though why one 
 should for a drunken, worthless beast like this," he 
 muttered, mixing some medicine in a tumbler. 
 
 " Oh, he's a good man to me when he ain't been 
 drinking ! " sobbed the woman. " It's the devil that 
 gets into him then, Mr. Gold ; the same devil that 
 makes him call bad names at you and curse you on the 
 street. But you won't bear malice at him for that, sir ? 
 Mr. Gold, I ain't got no confidence in them doc- 
 tors ; won't you try ? " 
 
 " He knows better," said the doctor with a laugh, 
 as he approached the bed, glass in hand. " However,
 
 216 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 you have muscular strength in plenty, Mr. Gold, and 
 in case our patient should prove a thought intracta- 
 ble " At which word -the patient sprang at him with 
 a hideous curse, struck the glass from his hand to the 
 floor, and would have fastened upon his throat but for 
 the quick interposition of Felix Gold, who had put the 
 boy from his arms in readiness for some such event. 
 
 " You see, friend," he said, as they together held the 
 maniac down, " that medicine only can not save. Let 
 go your hold of him." 
 
 " And have you torn to pieces ? " gasped the young 
 doctor. 
 
 " I am in no danger. Let him go, or I will" 
 
 The doctor sprang back from the bed as if he had 
 been shot. Felix Gold looked steadily into the face of 
 the man thus abandoned to him. It was blood-red, the 
 eyes glaring with insane fury, the lips drawn back from 
 the teeth in a beast-like snarl. The face was very near 
 his own, the strong burning hands were on his shoul- 
 ders, but with one hand upon the naked breast Felix 
 Gold kept him off, while he laid the other hand upon 
 the burning forehead of the maniac. 
 
 " Man ! " he said ; " my brother, for whom Christ 
 died, I command thee to conquer the devil that is in 
 thee, and to submit thyself to the will of God, who has 
 sent this illness for thy sins and for the sins of others." 
 
 Without any visible force from the two strong, ten- 
 der hands upon him, the man fell back upon his pillows, 
 and lay there glaring.
 
 "THE WING OF THE DESTROYER." 217 
 
 " Now your medicine, doctor," said Felix Gold, with- 
 out removing the touch of his hands or wavering in his 
 steady gaze. 
 
 The young physician shrugged his shoulders, but 
 obeyed. Felix took the glass in his right hand, and 
 placed his left under the head of the patient instead of 
 upon his brow. " Arise," he said, " and drink, in the 
 Lord's name, the potion he hath sent thee." 
 
 The maniac obeyed like a child, and Felix laid 
 him back upon his pillows and covered him warmly. 
 " Sleep now," he said tenderly, " and may the Lord heal 
 thee ! " 
 
 The man turned over in his bed, composed his huge 
 limbs, and closed his eyes. For a moment longer Felix 
 stood beside him, until his slumber became assured, 
 then he turned gently away. " Now, will you give your 
 orders, doctor, as to his treatment when he wakes ? " he 
 said. 
 
 " If that's your kind of faith-cure, it's more sensible 
 than the ordinary sort," said the doctor, as they left 
 the house together. " You do not despise medicine, 
 then?" 
 
 " The best medicine of all is prayer," returned Felix 
 Gold ; " but God has made also the herbs of the field 
 for the use of man ; if, as food, they keep him in health 
 and strength, may he not also use them as medicine ? " 
 
 " That is a very sensible way of looking at it," said 
 the doctor. 
 
 " And yet," resumed Felix Gold with a smile, " it
 
 218 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 will some day be possible to do without medicine. 
 Sickness is an offense against the will of God, and, 
 when all men realize that, there will be no more 
 sickness. Even now are there diseases which can be 
 cured by the will of the sufferer only, aided, perhaps, 
 when sore enfeebled by sin, by the will of the healer, 
 which is must be, really to heal one with the will of 
 God. But until we have learned how in all diseases to 
 apply this power, and to vitalize the will, and through 
 it the whole moral and physical nature, we must be 
 content to use natural remedies. Moreover, sin is so 
 often the accompaniment as well as the cause of illness, 
 that medicines often aid the weak will to bring both 
 body and soul to such an approach to health as to be 
 able to work out the remainder of their own salva- 
 tion." 
 
 " That's the most sensible fool I ever saw," said 
 the young doctor, retailing this conversation, that 
 same evening, for the benefit of several brethren in 
 the profession. 
 
 " Fool ? " said one of them, who had only not 
 grown gray in the profession because his head was as 
 bare as the palm of one's hand ; " fool, do you say ? I 
 advise you, sir, not to talk about fools. 'Vitalize the 
 patient's will-power.' It is what every good doctor 
 under heaven tries to do, sir ; it's what we mean by the 
 moral effect of a medicine. And you'll find, sir, as you 
 grow older and wiser, that in proportion as you suc- 
 ceed in this you will cure your patients. If you can't
 
 "THE WING OP THE DESTROYER." 219 
 
 do it, or won't do it, then for heaven's sake go and 
 hang yourself, and let somebody else have a chance." 
 
 " But oh ! of course I know all about the moral 
 effect of medicines." 
 
 " You do, sir ? Then in the name of Providence 
 teach the rest of us, for we know very little." 
 
 "You'd better get this man Gold to teach you," 
 said the young doctor, laughing for he was a good- 
 natured fellow, and the old doctor's sarcasms were 
 without venom " I believe he professes to understand 
 it. He comes in the name of Jesus that's the comical 
 side of it. Of course it's all the effect of the imagina- 
 tion" 
 
 " Well, sir," said the old doctor, " if you can take a 
 man's mind to pieces, and say this is will, this imagina- 
 tion, and this faith, you are cleverer than I am. You 
 can't do it with his body unless he's dead that is, 
 beyond a certain limit. You can cut off his leg or 
 his arm, or remove a piece of his skull, because it isn't 
 the leg that walks, the head that thinks, or the arm 
 that cuts down a tree it's the whole man, the indi- 
 vidual, the personality that does it." 
 
 " Yes, sir, but what I want to get at is this. Of 
 course, I know you can cure a man of some diseases 
 with pure water if he thinks there's a tincture in it ; 
 and I'm perfectly willing to humbug him that or any 
 other way, if it's for his good ; even to the extent 
 of a conjuration in the name of a man who, if he ever 
 lived, has been dead eighteen hundred years ; but you
 
 220 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 can not prevent my thinking it a pretty good joke all 
 the same." 
 
 " That's how you kill your patients," said the old 
 doctor dryly. "Sir, as you grow older you will find 
 that the Lord Jesus Christ has been by no means dead 
 for eighteen hundred years, or anything like it; and 
 as for conjuring in his name, in what other name 
 under heaven would you conjure, may I ask ? Do I 
 understand you to say that the man claims to be able 
 to vitalize the will-power in the name and through the 
 power of Jesus, so as to stimulate the patient to throw 
 off the disease ? " 
 
 " That's it, sir ; he calls the power vitalism, or 
 something like that." 
 
 " I shall call upon him, or try to find him some- 
 where," said the old physician. " I am too old and too 
 case-hardened to try that sort of thing myself ; but it is 
 just possible he has made what we call a great scientific 
 discovery that is to say, found the formula which ex- 
 presses what all of us have known since we could speak." 
 
 It was upon the afternoon of the same day that 
 Felix Gold, going his rounds from house to house, wher- 
 ever the yellow flag signified the presence of the de- 
 stroyer, came upon the Keverend Bennet Lane, praying 
 by the bedside of a sufferer. Felix would have passed 
 out again as quietly as he had entered, but the patient, 
 a girl, who had heard as had most people in Fairtown 
 by this time of his mysterious power, stretched out 
 her hands to him imploringly.
 
 "THE WING OF THE DESTROYER." 221 
 
 " Brother Gold," she cried, for so he was usually 
 addressed, " Brother Gold ! " 
 
 He came close to the bed and looked down upon 
 her, with his strong, sweet smile. Bennet Lane rose 
 from his knees and looked upon the heretic and sec- 
 tarian, half in curiosity, half in disgust. Felix Gold 
 put out his hand to him, frankly and kindly. 
 
 " They have whims," he said, " these poor sick little 
 ones, or perhaps God has sent me to her who knows ? 
 Shall we wait to know, you and I ? " 
 
 Bennet Lane could not refuse the hand, he could 
 not make any disturbance that would endanger the sick 
 girl's life ; but he felt injured, insulted, by the intru- 
 sion of this man who called himself a clergyman, 
 who had broken into the sheepfold another way than 
 through the door of regular orders at the bedside of 
 this girl, one of his own penitents, for whom he was 
 responsible to the Head of the Church. 
 
 " Brother Gold, pray for me, save me ! I want to 
 get well. I don't want to die ! " she cried half de- 
 liriously. 
 
 " But you know, Mary, that in exciting yourself 
 thus you increase the chances against your recovery," 
 broke in her spiritual guide, a trifle impatiently. 
 
 Felix Gold turned upon him a look of grave sur- 
 prise. " Would you reason with one beyond reason ? " 
 he said. " Be still ! " as Mr. Lane would have spoken 
 further " I bid you to be still." 
 
 He turned to the girl with gentle tenderness. " My
 
 222 FROM BUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 child," he said, " what I can do for you I will ; but all 
 is in God's hands. Why wish you so to live ? " 
 
 " For Tom," cried the girl, " oh, for Tom ! Him 
 and me are engaged, we are ; but if I die, Tom will go 
 to the bad. He says so, and I know he will. And, 
 Brother Gold, don't let me get well ugly, for then Tom 
 will not love me." 
 
 " That is love you are better without " began Ben- 
 net Lane, but Felix held up his hand authoritatively. 
 " Hush ! " he said, and then to the girl : " Do you 
 think God wishes you to be ugly, or Tom to go to the 
 bad ? No ? But, you know, if you pick your face " as 
 in her agitation she was beginning to do " you will 
 be ugly ; and if you cry and fret you will die ; and then 
 if Tom makes up his mind to go to the bad, to the bad 
 will he go, assuredly. Therefore, I will kneel beside 
 you, and we will lay it all in God's hands is it not so ? 
 and then you will have medicine and food here is 
 your mother with both. Ah ! so many sick in this 
 great town have no kind mothers to wait on them and 
 you will sleep and grow strong." 
 
 He waited to see her quiet, and to give her himself 
 a little milk before he went forth again. The Keverend 
 Bennet, whom he met again on the street, passed him 
 with only a grave bow, whereat Felix smiled half sadly. 
 
 " Your friend Mr. Lane," he said to Cyril when 
 they met that evening, " he thinks I have intruded on 
 his parish ; but the little one needed me, and he knew 
 not the food wherewith to feed her."
 
 "THE WING OF THE DESTROYER." 223 
 
 " Yet he calls himself her pastor, and denies your 
 right or ability to feed any with the bread of life," said 
 Cyril a little hotly, for he was worn and weary. 
 
 " And that ! what is it? " said Felix Gold. " Does 
 it matter to me what any may think of me or my office, 
 save those to whom the Lord may send me ? Moreover, 
 it is necessary for the kingdom to have fixed pastors 
 over regular congregations ; but not all of these pastors 
 are called, neither are all of the flock of any within 
 hearing of the voice they can most easily follow. For 
 there is much in temperament, Cyril, and the magnet- 
 ism which repels one attracts another, so that our 
 vitalism may act through it." 
 
 " But the true pastor," said Cyril, " would rejoice 
 that, whether by him or another, by Paul or Apollos, 
 Christ were preached and the Church edified." 
 
 " After a while," said Felix gently, " no doubt our 
 friend will likewise rejoice and be glad, when the little 
 maid is well and fair again." 
 
 " But," said Cyril, " you do not see it as I do, Gold ; 
 you never have seen it the moral effect, I mean, of 
 this intolerance, on the men themselves the subjective 
 effect, you know." 
 
 " Yes, I know," he answered, smiling. 
 
 " You see, I've grown up with it, but it never struck 
 me so forcibly until now, partly because I was myself 
 infected with the virus, and partly because I had never 
 had you before my eyes to point the moral. One runs 
 across so many parsons in these days Roman Catholics,
 
 224 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 Methodists, Presbyterians, Episcopalians, High and 
 Low very good, earnest fellows, all of them for the 
 other kind have left the city for their wives' health. 
 But there's just this difference : a Methodist may think 
 a Presbyterian is wrong on certain theological points, 
 but he doesn't look upon him as one of another caste ; 
 even a Presbyterian or a close-communion Baptist will 
 admit the right of those who belong to other denomi- 
 nations to think for themselves. But Episcopalians, 
 High or Low Church except for a few liberal souls 
 are distinctly supercilious toward those who have not, 
 as they think, the apostolic succession." 
 
 " Whatever that may be," said Felix Gold. 
 
 " Just so," said Cyril ; " whatever that may be. Some 
 of us will meet you in ministers' clubs, and so on and 
 some of us won't but if you could hear the remarks 
 we make about you not ill-natured, you know, except 
 theologically you had rather we shouldn't, I'm sure. 
 And it seems to me that to recognize a man as a 
 member of one's own profession one day and deny his 
 right to practice the next " 
 
 " You mean, to admit him into a ministers' club 
 and keep him out of your pulpit ? " 
 
 "Yes; or to reverence him personally and look 
 down upon him theologically don't you see ? Why it 
 must beget a certain double-mindedness, which " 
 
 " Destroys vitalism," said Felix Gold. " It would, 
 Cyril, if men were logical ; happily, they are but theo- 
 logical."
 
 "THE WING OF THE DESTROYER." 225 
 
 " Which lessens but does not entirely correct the 
 evil," said Cyril ; " an evil, Gold, which if not plucked 
 up by the roots out of the Episcopal Church, will 
 grow into the upas tree that shall destroy her." 
 
 " If but why should I say if ? At the Lord's bid- 
 ding you will do this thing, my friend," cried Felix 
 Gold. 
 
 " Not I. I am no Samson to bear away these gates 
 of Philistinism on my shoulders." 
 
 " The Samson will come," said Felix. " Ah ! the 
 noble deed ! It were worth living for ! " 
 
 " Worth dying for ! " said Cyril Deane. 
 
 15
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 NOT THAT ! ANYTHING BUT LOVE ! 
 
 AMONG the earliest victims of the scourge which 
 had been laid upon the city earlier than even the 
 coldest-hearted and most selfish of the rich had fled 
 from its limits was old Nastasia, who, nevertheless, 
 died free from contagion. It was scarcely terror that 
 took away her life, though one of the facts which have 
 been patent to us, lo ! these many years, is, that terror 
 can and will produce disease, even as fearlessness is the 
 best preventive. Not, as yet, an absolute preventive; 
 for it is not the courage of one, it is not the faith of 
 one, that shall conquer disease and death, but the cour- 
 age and the faith of all. 
 
 But when Nastasia heard the tidings that small-pox 
 had become an epidemic, " Den dar is Nastasia's sum- 
 mons," she said. " Mighty ugly face he got, too ; but 
 he's de messenger of de Lawd." 
 
 She crept feebly to Meta's room, for all the while 
 her strength had been failing more rapidly than any 
 about her had leisure to observe. " Honey," she said, 
 " honey ! " and then she sank upon the rug at her nurs-
 
 NOT THAT! ANYTHING BUT LOVE! 227 
 
 ling's feet, and laid her head against the soft folds of 
 Meta's dress. 
 
 "Are you ill, Nastasia?" asked the girl, with a 
 slight frown ; for Meta was very difficile in those days. 
 Health was returning, but with an ebb and flow which 
 made the bad days doubly trying by the remembrance 
 of the good; and Meta neither understood nor could 
 control her varying moods. 
 
 " My lamb, ole Nastasia ain't long for dishyer worl'. 
 I'se struck wid death, honey, an' I come to say good-by 
 to you, chile, whilst I kin. For you'se not to come 
 anigh me, Miss Meta mine dat, now, my lamb ! You'se 
 not to come anigh me ! " 
 
 " If you are ill, you must go to bed and send for a 
 doctor," said Meta, still rather coldly. " But, of course, 
 I should nurse you." 
 
 " An' yo' pretty face be all marked, an' yo' beauty 
 faded away like a flower ! It's hard, my Lawd, werry 
 hard ! She's got nobody but me, an' ole Miss, she done 
 got de whole f ambly of dem dat's undergroun' ; but she 
 called me, ole Miss did, an' I mus' leave de lamb no ! 
 go to de Lamb no golden crowns for me ole Miss 
 yes, I'se a' comin' " 
 
 Meta leaned forward, and took the hardened aged 
 hand in hers. It was hot and dry, and the old wom- 
 an's talk had run into the meaningless babble of fever. 
 They got her to her bed and summoned a physician, 
 but he shook his head when he saw her. 
 
 " She has been drooping ever since her mistress
 
 228 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 died," he said. " It is often so with those who have 
 lived together many years; the tie between them be- 
 comes one that death can not break. And it is a 
 strange thing, too," he went on, " that this tie is not 
 always one of affection not even of use or habit ; it is 
 just the influence of one mind over another hypnotism, 
 in short.*' 
 
 " I have given up hypnotism," said Fritz Hermann, 
 to whom this speech was addressed. " It is a danger- 
 ous power; it acts and it reacts. One may kill with 
 it, while one knows it not. But for Nastasia why, 
 if the mistress had been the survivor one could under^ 
 stand it, for the negress was in her youth a voodoo 
 woman." 
 
 " And do you not know that that very temperament 
 is the most responsive and receptive ? " said the phy- 
 sician. " You fancy it is your will by which the hyp- 
 notized person acts. It is not; it is his own. Your 
 will sways his, but does not destroy it ; he can refuse 
 your suggestion though he rarely does even in the 
 hypnotic sleep, if it is very repugnant to his heart, con- 
 science, or even his self-esteem. At least, so the S. P. R. 
 reports tell us ; I have never met with cases of that sort 
 of suggestion myself. Oh ! I would not give up hypno- 
 tism if I were you. What you want to do is to study it 
 scientifically, and with the proper safeguards." 
 
 " Vitalism is its own safeguard," said Hermann 
 gloomily. " That one can study scientifically without 
 experimenting upon the heart of " He turned and
 
 NOT THAT! ANYTHING BUT LOVE! 229 
 
 walked away, leaving the doctor to make his exit un- 
 escorted, 
 
 Fritz Hermann, indeed, had altered strangely. He 
 had left his comfortable quarters at the Hermitage, but 
 seemed to know by instinct when anything went wrong 
 there. How he lived was best known to himself, as he 
 had but little money, if any. It was rumored that he 
 sometimes gave massage treatment, but he steadily re- 
 fused to employ his magnetic powers in any other way. 
 " I do not know," he would say. " I study now ; after- 
 ward, we will see." 
 
 He was a regular attendant at the mission, and 
 watched attentively the few cures there attempted, ana- 
 lyzing and discussing them afterward with Felix Gold 
 and Cyril. 
 
 " Truth is somewhere," he would say, " and your 
 vitalism is true ; but I can not believe as you do, my 
 friends not quite yet. The man Christ Jesus yes ; 
 the God Christ Jesus no, or not to me." 
 
 When he thus abruptly left the physician Fritz Her- 
 mann went straight to the room where lay Nantasia, 
 with Meta Leonard watching beside her. The old 
 woman lay in a stupor ; the girl's face was pale, but 
 there was a brightness in her eyes, an alertness of bear- 
 ing which brought back to him the Meta he had first 
 known. He looked at her silently a moment, then he 
 spoke : 
 
 " Mein Kind, I came to bid you rest, and let mo 
 watch in your stead."
 
 230 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " No, no," she answered, without looking at him. 
 " It is surely my place." 
 
 " So ? " he said ; " and because it is your place, that 
 is the reason I would fill it." 
 
 " No, no," she said again. 
 
 " But " he began ; and though there was nothing 
 in his looks, tone, or attitude to arouse her fear, she 
 glanced at him with sudden, sharp appeal : " Ah, no, 
 Fritz ! " she said. 
 
 " So ! Did I will too strongly ? " he said. " But you 
 need not fear me, Meta ; you are fenced against me by 
 a power stronger than mine." 
 
 She looked again, but longer and more steadily this 
 time, and perhaps a little of her old affection and confi- 
 dence came back, for she pointed to the bed, saying : 
 
 " Fritz, was she right ? Is she ill with small-pox ? " 
 
 " She is dying of imagination hypnotism what 
 you will to call it," he said ; " but small-pox, No ! 
 Meta, you hate me ; is it not so ? " 
 
 " No, no, Fritz ! I am not so wicked." 
 
 " Ah ! one knows what that means," he said, with a 
 groan. " Mein Kind, I shall never see you again, per- 
 haps ! You will say a good-by to me ? " 
 
 " You are going away, Fritz ? " 
 
 " I am going away," he said. 
 
 She rose from her seat, moved a step toward him, 
 and half extended her hand ; then suddenly withdrew 
 it, turned away, and covered her face with it and its 
 fair and slender fellow.
 
 NOT THAT! ANYTHING BUT LOVE I 231 
 
 " Ah," he said, after a pause, " I understand. Yes, 
 yes, that explains itself. You fear me so much, dear 
 child ? " The tremor in his deep voice, the agony in 
 his eyes " Meta ! " he said 
 
 " Fritz, forgive me ! " she said. " It is not you 
 I fear, but your power over me. I think you can not 
 help it more than I. Do you know that I can always 
 tell the moment that you enter the house ? That any- 
 thing you have worn your hat or your handkerchief 
 makes me tremble and quiver as with an electric shock ? 
 You do not will it so, it is not you, but your dreadful 
 power. I I feel very kindly toward you, dear Eritz, 
 but do not ask me to touch your hand." 
 
 " No, no," he said patiently. " No, no, my child, 
 never again never again. Yes," he went on, after 
 another silence and he turned away his eyes lest their 
 gaze also should move her " yes, yes, I see, I see. You 
 fear not me, but my power, for we are two ; Cyril and 
 Ms power, they are one. We separate sin and the sin- 
 ner, not righteousness and the righteous. Ja wohl, I 
 understand both this and thee, dear Meta. Listen, 
 then. It is a dangerous thing when one has this power 
 over well, well, but that would puzzle you. Only, a 
 man keeps this of it, that he reads the heart and the 
 mind even of a pure maid like " He paused, and 
 went on again, but with many hesitations, as though 
 struggling for breath the cold drops stood on his brow. 
 " One plays with edged tools, one does not remember 
 the awfulness of the power ; one divides but no mat-
 
 232 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 ter. Meta, a man has played upon thy mind and soul 
 with clumsy fingers, till both are out of tune, and thou, 
 poor bewildered child, canst not separate nor distin- 
 guish one chord from another. Meta, when Cyril's step 
 sends the blood thrilling through thy veins, when thou 
 feelest his coming at a distance, when thy hand trem- 
 bles in his " 
 
 " Fritz ! " 
 
 "Yes, yes," he said hoarsely, with a smile of an- 
 guish. " Yes, yes, but it must be said, my child. You 
 are as a babe that has been ill and must learn again to 
 walk ; you can not use the will that / have misused, or 
 read the heart where my power has divided the earthly 
 and the heavenly. Meta, Cyril yes, it must be said 
 Cyril loves you; his power and he are one. If you 
 would reunite the being which I have broken, yield to 
 him ; if you would be free of my power, give yourself up 
 to his" 
 
 He waited a moment with his strong, white hands 
 clinched at his side, and his head sunk upon his breast ; 
 but there was no word of reply. Meta's arms were 
 folded upon the table, her head sunk upon them. 
 
 " Farewell ! " he said, but she did not answer. A 
 smile nay, rather a distortion of bitter comprehension 
 awoke in his eyes and upon his lips. He passed his 
 cold hand across his brow, and, without word, look, or 
 touch with a last supreme effort of self-renunciation 
 he passed from the room, and out of her life forever. 
 
 Then Meta lifted herself and looked around her
 
 NOT THAT! ANYTHING BUT LOVE! 233 
 
 stealthily vacantly; she rose and stole to the bedside 
 where Nastasia lay. 
 
 " Did you hear him ? " she said ; but the negress's 
 stupor was not to be broken by that low whisper, 
 nor Meta's thralldom by the words of Fritz Hermann. 
 " Did you hear him, Nastasia ? Do you hear, now, how 
 all the room is full of it? Cyril loves me loves 
 oh, what is love ? Not that, not love ! anything but 
 that ! Nastasia, if you are dead, and with God if 
 there be a God tell him tell him " But her voice 
 shrilled into an inarticulate cry, and with her pale, 
 beautiful face and white slender palms uplifted to the 
 heavens she fell back unconscious upon the floor.
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 THE RESURRECTION OF THE BODY, AND THE 
 LIFE EVERLASTING. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " ASLEEP IN JESUS." 
 
 A SHADOWY existence, a semi-conscious being, such 
 as the Greeks deriving it, perhaps, from the memory of 
 just such approaches to that country ascribed to the 
 dwellers in the under-world this was Meta Leonard's 
 portion of life for several weeks. Pale forms flitted 
 across the mirror of her brain, some strange, others but 
 too well known. Were they shadow, or substance ? 
 Meta did not even ask. It was early in April when at last 
 she attained to a steadier vision, a surer consciousness 
 of the figure that for so long had hovered round her 
 like an angel ministrant ; a squarely built form, which 
 would have been clumsy but for the delicate, exquisite 
 tenderness that informed every movement. The face 
 was homely, and but for the soul within would have 
 been commonplace ; but a smile of divine sweetness 
 transfigured it into beauty, as she perceived a clearer 
 light of conscious intelligence in her patient's eyes.
 
 "ASLEEP IN JESUS." 235 
 
 The smile was enough. There was love in it, and 
 love is reality. Satisfied that she was once more a part 
 of the world of sense and substance the most real 
 world as yet open to her knowledge Meta swallowed 
 the strengthening food that was held to her lips, 
 smiled feebly at her nurse, turned over upon her pil- 
 low, though not without assistance, and was instantly 
 asleep. 
 
 When she again wakened the same form was beside 
 her, but this time, after her draught of hot milk, she 
 lay for a moment or so with open eyes, wondering. 
 
 " Who are you ?." she asked at length. Her voice 
 seemed to come from far away, and she was forced to 
 try more than once ere she could bring it at all under 
 control. 
 
 " I am the wife of Felix Gold his Miranda, he calls 
 me, but you may call me Sophie." 
 
 " And have you nursed me all this while ? " 
 
 " It was not a long while, dear friend, except for 
 your sake." 
 
 Meta did not speak again for some moments; but 
 her nurse saw a frown of perplexity gathering on the 
 pale forehead, where the slender arches of the brows 
 seemed darker than ever by contrast. She passed her 
 large, tender hand caressingly over the furrows. 
 
 "Do not try to think or remember," she said. " Is it 
 not that the dear Jesus does both for us? Leave it 
 with him." 
 
 " But Nastasia ? " said Meta feebly. " Did I dream
 
 236 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 that I saw her dead ? I have dreamed so many 
 things." 
 
 " No doubt," said the sweet, pathetic voice. " Yes, 
 yes, dear friend, Nastasia has gone home. She did not 
 suffer; and if, when she came to herself in the dear 
 heaven, she knew how you needed her, she knew also 
 that I was here to care for you." 
 
 "But Hugh?" said Meta. "Who took care of 
 Hugh ? And oh, he needed such care ! even your 
 husband said so." 
 
 "Ah, yes," said Sophie, "such care! And so the 
 blessed Jesus himself took care of him." 
 
 " And he is well ? When can I see him ? " 
 
 " Well, indeed, dear friend, and very happy ; and 
 you will surely see him. But when, I do not know." 
 
 " Why, where is he ? " 
 
 " Hugh is asleep in Jesus," said the calm, sweet voice. 
 
 It was told so lovingly, so as a happy matter of 
 course, that Meta, in her feebleness, scarcely felt the 
 blow. Had the news been delayed until the returning 
 tide of life had risen higher in her veins, the flesh 
 would have cried out against the separation, possibly 
 to its own destruction ; or had Sophie Gold evaded her 
 question for the moment for one can not fancy a lie 
 from such a woman had she left her to fret, to won- 
 der, and puzzle, and compare this with that, until the 
 sharp truth, as she fought her way to it, tore open its 
 way to her mind, then how ragged an edge to the 
 wound ! and how difficult of healing !
 
 "ASLEEP IN JESUS." 237 
 
 But though she understood them, Sophie's words 
 rang softly and soothingly ; she did not realize them, 
 perhaps, or, more truly, she did rerJize them more 
 entirely than would have been possible in fuller health. 
 They sank into her mind while yet it was incapable of 
 resistance, which alone gives pain ; and the new return- 
 ing life was left to form itself to grow and develop 
 along its new framework. 
 
 " Asleep in Jesus ! " 
 
 Meta was weary with even the few words she had 
 uttered, too weary to ask herself : Who is this Jesus ? 
 whether a medium, influenced, possessed, by a peculiar- 
 ly exalted class of spirits, an adept who had per- 
 formed the twelve labors (or perhaps only eleven of 
 them), or merely the impersonation in her own mind 
 of ideal perfection, " Asleep in Jesus ! " The words 
 brought a smile to her lips, in their sweet, strange 
 familiarity. 
 
 "Sing it to me," she said. "It has been so long 
 since I have heard it, not since my mother's funeral." 
 And as Sophie sang she fell asleep also in Jesus, but 
 to a speedier awakening on earth with a tender smile 
 upon her lips and a murmur of " Dear little Hugh !" 
 
 But the doctor shrugged his shoulders when he 
 heard she had been told. 
 
 " I am glad it is over," he said ; " and since she took 
 it so calmly it will probably not do her any harm. But 
 it is more than I should have dared to do myself, Mrs. 
 Gold."
 
 238 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " But she asked the question ! " said Sophie won- 
 deringly. 
 
 " Asked the Bless my soul, madam, if you give a 
 true answer to every question a sick person But that 
 I suppose, is faith cure ! Better let a man die than 
 save him by a fib, eh ? " 
 
 " There is no such thing as a fib," said Felix, to 
 whom his wife had looked for aid ; " and more have been 
 slain by lies than by the truth, I think. But whether 
 we live or die matters little. What matters much is 
 this : that a rational soul, the moment it has power to 
 formulate a question, has a right to the answer." 
 
 " Sick or well, eh ? " 
 
 The young evangelist bowed gravely. 
 
 " Then I suppose you would give him poison to drink, 
 or a razor to cut his throat, if he asked for them." 
 
 " Poison a razor these are things" said Felix 
 Gold. " Truth is life. Moreover, it is the question, 
 the doubt, the suspicion, which is the poison, and the 
 answer which soothes and heals, and makes alive." 
 
 " Well, we won't quarrel over it. All's well that 
 ends well ; and, happily, Mrs. Gold's tact " 
 
 " Tact ? " said Felix, smiling at his wife, who sat 
 with folded hands, not half understanding the argu- 
 ment, yet confident that he was making it all quite 
 right. " Tact? But, yes, thou hast tact, my Miranda 
 the tact, the touch of one whose heart is right with God 
 and the world, and who therefore speaks always the very 
 inmost truth, which can never wound or slay."
 
 "ASLEEP IN JESUS." 239 
 
 He put out his hand to her as he spoke. She came 
 to his side, and as he drew her close, laid her head upon 
 his shoulder, and looked into his face with eyes of un- 
 questioning love and confidence. 
 
 The doctor hastily left the room. 
 
 " Well, well," he said to himself as he drove off, 
 " love, medicine, and religion are things that no fellow 
 can find out. I've seen enough in all three directions 
 in the last fortnight to play the mischief with all my 
 theories, and that's a fact. But so long as my patients 
 recover, and other folks are good and happy, what's the 
 odds? G'lang there!" 
 
 As Felix Gold had said, it is the question, the doubt, 
 the suspense, that is the poison to the mind. 
 
 Meta's strength came back to her slowly ; her tired 
 brain, tortured heart, and shattered nerves, surely but 
 very slowly, in the still, peaceful atmosphere that now 
 pervaded the Hermitage, returned to health and ah, 
 not yet to happiness ! 
 
 As the outer world once more became palpable to 
 her, the tender shoots of her freshly budding soul felt 
 dimly for support. This Meta supposed could only be 
 found in facts, in things that had happened. Her heart 
 was weary and homeless. " It is because I have missed 
 a piece out of my life in all these weeks," she said ; and 
 therefore she asked many questions, and often brooded 
 gloomily over the answers. 
 
 Francis Mertou was still in the house. He had
 
 240 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 walked through the plague-stricken city calmly and un- 
 touched by disease as Felix Gold himself ; he had given 
 freely of time, strength, and money to aid the sufferers ; 
 and there were very many who worshiped his name as 
 though it had been a saint's, and who said of the doc- 
 trine he held, " There must be truth in it to have made 
 him what he is ! " 
 
 One soft, mild morning in April he came, with his 
 noiseless step, sweet, calm face, and gentle presence, into 
 Meta's room. The girl's bodily strength had so far re- 
 turned as to be a torment to her ; every nerve quivered 
 with morbid energy. She paced the floor with feeble 
 steps and tottering limbs, from utter inability to keep 
 still ; then sank exhausted upon her couch, only to spring 
 up again after a few moments not of rest, but of pros- 
 tration. 
 
 " Asleep in Jesus ! " 
 
 Ay, it had been a solace, a support, in her weakness 
 of body and confusion of brain. What was it now a 
 mere meaningless term, a figure of speech, or a divine 
 truth ? For " them that sleep in Jesus will Christ 
 bring with him." Them that sleep ! Her grandmother 
 Meta had been so under the dominion of a false power 
 while her grandmother lived, that hex existence now was 
 scarcely more shadowy and unreal than then. 
 
 Nastasia ? 
 
 Yes, the girl missed the old woman's loving service. 
 Even now Nastasia would have known how she suffered ; 
 she would have found some solace, some employment,
 
 "ASLEEP IN JESUS/' 241 
 
 some answer. Yes, Nastasia alone had read the heart of 
 her nursling; she would have answered the question 
 which Meta dared not ask. 
 
 But Hugh ! Ah, if Hugh had lived, would Meta have 
 lacked employment, amusement, love ? She numbered 
 up the months of his short life that had been lost to her 
 through the fatal influence of Fritz Hermann. How 
 much she might have done for him but for that enthrall- 
 ment ! How she might have watched and nursed him, 
 walked with and taught him, and gently wiled him for- 
 ward to a strong and vigorous manhood. 
 
 " For I could have healed him better than Felix 
 Gold," said Meta bitterly, not knowing that Felix had 
 but planted the seed of health, which only the hand of 
 abiding love could water. But she had been wrapped in 
 her baleful dream, and Hugh had perished. Not that 
 Fritz had so intended. Even in her angry sorrow Meta 
 did him justice there ; so close, indeed, had been their 
 union of mind that she could not easily misunderstand 
 him. But he had put to sleep Tier will, her conscience, 
 her affections, so that she lived his life, was ruled by his 
 sense of right, loved, hated, thought as he did ; and 
 there was not in his heart the loving, watchful care, 
 half-motherly, half-sisterly, which slumbered in the 
 heart of the girl. 
 
 How should there be ? Had the providence of God 
 given Hugh into his keeping? The man had not 
 planned to separate the brother and sister ; he had left 
 
 the girl at such liberty as he considered proper, consist- 
 16
 
 242 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 ently with her vocation and training as a sensitive. He 
 had believed the boy's welfare secured by the care of old 
 Nastasia in a word, he had put his will for God's will, 
 his life instead of Meta's life, his individuality for 
 hers. 
 
 And as, when a great tree is cut down in the forest, 
 the smaller trees, dwarfed in its shadow, can not at once 
 shoot upward and outward to their full proportions, 
 so, when his influence was removed, the individuality of 
 his victim for a while lay paralyzed. To herself she 
 had seemed to hang, like Mahomet's coffin, between his 
 power and that of another a power so fatally similar, 
 despite its differences, that even though her heart cried 
 out for it, she turned from it, struggled against it, put 
 it from her, with dread and horror. Then he, Fritz 
 himself, had bidden her yield to it ; but the command 
 had but added to the confusion of her soul, since in his 
 soul the two wills struggled for empire. He had willed 
 to will it so ; and the struggle which had brought the 
 drops of agony to the forehead of the strong man, had, 
 without his consciousness, been impressed upon the in- 
 nocent soul of the girl whose mind for so long had been 
 his laboratory, his lens into the spirit-world, as he had 
 believed, but in reality only the mirror of his own. 
 
 Now the pangs of returning life were stinging her 
 individual soul into vivid consciousness. 
 
 As Francis Merton tapped softly at her door with 
 fingers that she knew, she paused abruptly in her rest- 
 less pacing, and greeted his entrance with a smile of
 
 "ASLEEP IN JESUS." 243 
 
 relief. " Ah, you are very welcome," she said ; " you 
 see how nervous I am ; I can not sit still." 
 
 " The magnetic currents of your nature are all 
 astray and out of order," said Francis Merton, with his 
 quiet smile ; " and not altogether by your own doing ; 
 but by the gradual exercise of your will they may be 
 brought into harmony." 
 
 " My will ! I have no will." 
 
 Try ; you will find that you are wrong," he said 
 gently. 
 
 " Very well, then," she said petulantly ; " I will to 
 be well and strong this moment. Now, then ! " 
 
 " If you could really will it, you would be well and 
 strong," he replied, " but such results can not come all 
 at once. Begin by willing to sit still and talk to me 
 like a rational being. Now ! " 
 
 "But I am not rational, Mr. Merton. I am half 
 mad, with thinking of my brother, my little Hugh, 
 whom his dying mother gave me to care for, to 
 love" 
 
 " There, there ! you should not allow yourself to be 
 so shaken and distressed. You did not willfully neglect 
 him. You were unconscious, helpless, when he became 
 ill." 
 
 " Tell me again. It was diphtheria ? " 
 
 " Yes. I felt sure, from the first, that our friend 
 Gold had wrought only a temporary cure. Hugh's 
 Karma puzzles me ; but in some previous existence " 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Merton, what do I care for previous ex-
 
 24:4: FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 istence ? Tell me again He would not complain 
 dear little boy ! because of the trouble " 
 
 " There, there, dear child ! don't sob so. Why will 
 you go over and over these things which so distress 
 you ? " 
 
 " Tell it me," she said, amid her tears. 
 
 "Well, well," he said patiently, "if you will have 
 it ; but it would be better for you, Meta, to set your true 
 will against this foolish indulgence in useless grief." 
 
 " Ah, there she is ! " cried the girl, springing toward 
 the door, on which at the moment another tap sounded ; 
 and as it opened, she threw herself into the arms of 
 Sophie Gold. 
 
 " There, thou dear child, sob not so bitterly," she 
 said soothingly. 
 
 Francis Merton did not interfere; no one could 
 have judged of his thoughts from his face, as he listened 
 gravely. 
 
 " You will tell me, Sophie ; you know how I long 
 to hear even his name my little Hugh ! " 
 
 " Ah, yes, I know, dear Meta. And how he loved 
 you, the dear child ! ' Tell her not I am ill,' he said, 
 even in his fever; 'igo to her; nurse Meta. I shall do 
 very well,' he said to me." 
 
 " And you oh, you did not, you did not, could not 
 leave him to die alone ? " 
 
 " No, no ; no, no," said Sophie ; " I was with him 
 to the last his last on earth. But no nursing could 
 have saved him ; there was no hope from the first."
 
 "ASLEEP IN JESUS." 34.5 
 
 " And you," cried Meta, turning almost fiercely 
 upon Felix, " you, who boast of your power " 
 
 " Well, well," he said, smiling tenderly " but see, 
 dear sister, it is not my power. Am I God? The 
 child one knows not how the disease came to him 
 but he would not complain ; he went apart into a dark 
 room, lest one should see his flushed cheek and heavy 
 eyes ; then he went alone to his bed. In the morn- 
 ing-" 
 
 " All night ! he suffered all night, and alone ! " 
 
 " Not alone," said Felix Gold ; " for One was with 
 him who knows all suffering and all loneliness. In the 
 morning he was delirious ; but, as my dear wife says, 
 his only thought and murmur were for you, that you 
 might be cared for." 
 
 " I I for me, who had so neglected him ! " 
 
 Then Francis Merton interposed. "Not willfully, 
 dear child ; do not distress yourself ; you will be ill 
 again." 
 
 " Oh, if I might die ! " she cried. Then" No, no ! 
 not death, unless it will bring me to Hugh." There 
 was another name upon her lips, but she did not speak 
 it. No one had breathed it in her hearing, and she 
 dared not ask. Ah, if he dwelt in the dim under- 
 world. " I killed him ! " she cried ; " I killed him ! Not 
 a month, two months, ago I know nothing of time 
 now but when I forsook him, when I gave myself up 
 to the power of Fritz Hermann, I killed my little 
 Hugh. It all goes back to that! I see it all now!
 
 246 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 Should I have been ill else ? And if I had been well, 
 strong as in the days when You dare not tell me I am 
 wrong ! " she cried, turning again upon Felix ; then, 
 with a quick transition, she clasped her white hands in 
 wild entreaty. " Tell me for God's sake, tell me that 
 I did not kill him ! " 
 
 Felix Gold's eyes looked steadfastly, sweetly, into 
 hers. " My poor child, Christ died for you ; may 
 not Hugh also ? " he said. 
 
 She gave a low moan, and threw herself face down- 
 ward on her couch. 
 
 " Fool ! " said Francis Merton, with the only sem- 
 blance of impatience they had ever seen in him ; 
 " what help is your Christian mythology to her now ? 
 Listen to me, Meta. All that you have said may be 
 true, yet there is no need to grieve over it unless you 
 had willfully neglected or ill-treated Hugh, and so had 
 stored up bad Karma for yourself, to be worked out in 
 your next incarnation." 
 
 " What do I care for myself ? It is Hugh," she 
 moaned drearily, " Hugh, that I think of his suffer- 
 ings. If only I could have borne them for him ! " 
 
 " That is nonsense," said Francis Merton ; " it was 
 all the effect of Karma his, not yours. It could not 
 possibly have been otherwise ; and some day, or in some 
 ason for it may be cycles hence when in some future 
 incarnation you attain to adeptship, and past and future 
 are both open to you, you will see how futile it is to 
 agitate one's self over the sorrows of a single earth-life,
 
 "ASLEEP IN JESUS." 247 
 
 since every event has its antecedent in some preceding 
 incarnation, and its consequent " 
 
 " Oh, have mercy on me ! " she cried. " Is all only 
 one great machine ? And Hugh, where is he in these 
 endless incarnations? Shall I never, never see him 
 again ? " 
 
 But it was not only Hugh for whose sake she 
 longed to know of the spirit-world. 
 
 She started up with her hands pressed to her tem- 
 ples. *' Was there any truth in it ? " she cried. " Can 
 they come back to us, and materialize before our 
 eyes?" 
 
 Felix Gold sat silent and motionless. By a look 
 he had called his wife to his side. " Let her hear 
 him," he murmured; "only do thou pray for her, 
 beloved." And Sophie obediently folded her hands 
 and lifted up her heart in prayer. 
 
 " Truth ? You know there was none," said Francis 
 Merton. " They were but shells with which you had 
 to do in those days ; shells that is, the fourth principle 
 or animal soul, and a portion of the fifth principle or 
 human soul. These were drawn into your magnetic 
 current by your will, and borrowed from you the intelli- 
 gence and consciousness which they did not possess. 
 The purer portion of the fifth principle clings to the 
 spiritual soul, or Buddhi, and they pass together into 
 Devachan, the abode of happiness." 
 
 " And there I shall see Hugh ? He is there now ? " 
 But it was not only Hugh that she meant.
 
 248 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " There you will find all, or any one who is ne- 
 cessary to your happiness," said Francis Merton. 
 
 " But ah, I remember ! You read to me no, I 
 myself read it they whom we love are not really pres- 
 ent with us ; it is their image, their idea " 
 
 " Keally present ? But what is reality ? " said Francis 
 Merton. " They are present to our thought, to our 
 belief, to our consciousness ; we have but to think of 
 them and they are present with us. It is a better 
 heaven than the Christian's, for in it none need mourn 
 for lost souls shut out ; the mother there has her 
 prodigal son, though the ego of that son may be else- 
 where ; every lover has his beloved, even though, as in 
 the parable, seven have loved the one " 
 
 " But not himself not himself," cried Meta. " And 
 can an idea, a subjective presence, love me back 
 again ? " 
 
 "You will find no difference," he said, with his 
 calm smile. 
 
 " No difference ? But I want more ! I want truth, 
 I want reality, I want himself himself of course I 
 mean Hugh," she murmured. 
 
 Francis Merton did not answer, and Sophie Gold 
 softly crossed the room to Meta's side and drew the 
 girl into her kind arms. " I know," she whispered ; 
 " did not my baby die ? But Christ will give him back 
 to me no image, but himself. He is with Jesus." 
 
 "It is individuality personality that the dear 
 child wants," said Felix Gold's voice. Meta's face was
 
 "ASLEEP IN JESUS." 249 
 
 hidden upon the shoulder of Sophie, who at his next 
 words felt the heart against her own give one full, sud- 
 den throb, and then nutter quiveringly like a frightened 
 bird. 
 
 " We need the scholarship of our friend Cyril to 
 tell us just what that means ; for, though I have learned 
 much from him, I can not take his place. But I know 
 what it is to be a person, and it is persons only, not 
 ideas or images, that one may love." 
 
 " To the Buddhi, and the part of the Manas which 
 is left, the idea is as real as the personality whatever 
 that may be," said Merton. 
 
 " Can the idea act independently of your will ? " 
 asked Felix Gold. " Can it love you back again, even 
 as the dear child says ? And if not, can you love that 
 which gives nothing in return ? " 
 
 " Why not ? " asked Francis Merton. 
 
 "Why not? Because matter and mind are even 
 as I have read in your books mere manifestations of 
 one and the same eternal force, which is spirit. Be- 
 cause therefore the three realms of spirit, mind, and 
 matter are, and must be, governed by cognate laws; 
 and as, in the starry heavens, each star returns in its 
 proportion the influence it receives, and that it gives 
 is proof that it does receive, so to love is proof that we 
 love a sentient being capable of loving in return." 
 
 " Your analogy halts," said Francis Merton ; " it 
 should be, ' To love is proof that we are loved.' " 
 
 " And so would it be but for sin," was the reply.
 
 250 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " But over God sin has no power. There is the central 
 Sun of our universe ; to be drawn to him proves his 
 self-conscious being. ' We love him because he first 
 loved us.' " 
 
 Sophie Gold lifted her face, which had been bent 
 above the face upon her shoulder. " Will you leave the 
 dear child to me ? " she asked. " Meta," she said when 
 they were alone, " for me, I can not understand this 
 talk of individualities ; but I know that Jesus loves 
 me and thee and Hugh, and that the boy is safe in his 
 bosom." 
 
 " But I killed him," murmured Meta faintly. 
 
 " You let Fritz Hermann mesmerize you that was 
 wrong," said Sophie, firmly ; " and from that all came. 
 So you have said, and it is true. If you had ruled your- 
 self and your own will all the while, the boy might 
 still be alive on earth. But, Meta, he is not dead ; you 
 have not killed him ; he is alive still, only with Christ, 
 which is far better. Yes, yes, and it was Christ who 
 let it happen, who lets all happen all the sin and 
 misery ; so must he mean to set all right some day. I 
 do not understand always my Felix, but I trust him 
 even when he talks of individualities," said Sophie, 
 smiling ; " and just so I trust Jesus. It is all in his 
 hands, Meta. Leave it there." 
 
 " Yes, I will," said Meta. " I do, Sophie ; it is such 
 rest ! " But she did not lift her head, and Sophie held 
 her closer. Something more was to be said, and both 
 women knew it.
 
 "ASLEEP IN JESUS." 251 
 
 " Sophie," it was the merest whisper. 
 
 " Yes, dear." 
 
 " Where is is he ? " 
 
 " Dear child, our Cyril stood by your bedside when 
 you lay in the fever, while I was with Hugh. Day and 
 night had he watched, but he would not leave you. 
 Then there came a night when it seemed that you must 
 die ; but Cyril knelt beside you with your hands in his, 
 and his eyes upon your face, as though he could not 
 let you go. When your sleep became soft and peaceful, 
 and the drops stood upon your brow, he stood again 
 on his feet ah ! so tired, Meta so tired and whis- 
 pered me ; ' You will not tell her, Sophie, until she 
 names my name ? ' Sol was silent, Meta, until your 
 heart spoke and your lips followed." 
 
 The girl drew a long sigh, and let her friend lay her 
 tenderly upon the couch. Her face was very pale, and 
 the tears flowed over her cheeks from beneath the 
 closed eyelids, but the lips smiled. 
 
 " Ah, Cyril is very noble, very good, but he is only 
 a man, after all," said Sophie wisely. " They should 
 sometimes help us to name them, us poor women ! for 
 the louder the heart cries for their presence the closer 
 pressed together are the poor trembling lips." W'here- 
 with she stooped and kissed them.
 
 CHAPTEK II. 
 
 HEKETICS AND INFIDELS. 
 
 " So tired ! " Yes, Cyril had been very tired when he 
 left Meta's bedside ; weary with such a weariness as he 
 had never known before. There was little for him to 
 do, fortunately, for the health of the town was improv- 
 ing ; the several pestilences had been stamped out, as 
 the doctors expressed it, and there was no more than 
 the usual amount of sickness. 
 
 Cyril lay on his lounge in the gray-walled sitting- 
 room and watched the long bars of colored light steal 
 higher and higher along the walls, then vanish sud- 
 denly as a dream when one awaketh. There was in 
 the stained window a blood-red Maltese cross, which, 
 as afternoon began, crept across the cocoa matting at 
 his feet, and at sunset stood midway upon the wall 
 just opposite him. He took great comfort in the cross, 
 for some reason which I am not able to explain; it 
 seemed, indeed, the only companion he needed, except 
 when Felix Gold had time to sit with him half an hour 
 or so. He was not ill, he said, and certainly not at all 
 unhappy, only lazy ; but the physician talked of feeble 
 pulse, loss of appetite, and a low state of the system
 
 HERETICS AND INFIDELS. 253 
 
 "just the condition in which to take any disease and 
 die with it," he said ; " and very serious in a person of 
 such great vitality," he added. 
 
 " One can't eat one's cake and have it," said Cyril, 
 smiling ; " and I have been spending my vitality right 
 along, I suppose. Bat Felix Gold has done more than 
 I have, and look at him ! He is as strong as a horse." 
 
 " Perhaps he didn't put his heart into it in the 
 same way," said the doctor, and was surprised to see a 
 sudden vivid color flush up to his patient's brow. " Is 
 that so ? " he thought, but, being a wise man, said only : 
 " What you want is change. Is there anywhere you 
 would specially like to go ? " 
 
 " I am too lazy to travel," said Cyril, smiling. 
 " Just let me alone for the present, doctor ; I shall 
 leave when I get ready." 
 
 "Who is she?" asked the doctor of Felix, when 
 next he caught him alone. 
 
 Felix smiled. "If I ought to tell her name? "he 
 said. " She has been ill, and she is here in Fairtown 
 so much I may say. I would let him alone, according 
 to his words, good friend, if I were you." 
 
 " Why, if he won't go, I might as well," said the 
 doctor. " She's out of danger, I hope for that Well, 
 one can not understand or explain these things. What's 
 your theory about it now ? Can't you set him on his 
 feet again ? Else what are your faith cure and vitalism 
 good for, hey ? " 
 
 "It is because we know so little," the other said
 
 254 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 thoughtfully. " Were vitalisis fully accomplished in 
 any one of us, he indeed could heal all those who willed 
 their own healing. But vitalisis is weak, embryonic, 
 rudimentary what shall I say ? It has not yet trans- 
 formed either soul or body into the image of itself ; and 
 if the strong will urge us to expend overmuch vitalism, 
 body and soul suffer alike." 
 
 " Then you to be sure, you have a physique such 
 as one seldom sees ; but you have done in the last few 
 months what I could not have believed of ten men, and 
 you don't seem the worse for it. Were you economical 
 of your vitalism ? Or is it, as I said to our friend there, 
 that you did not put your heart into it, as he did ? " 
 
 " Friend," said Felix Gold, u vitalisis begins in the 
 heart. We are now speaking of deep things, well-nigh 
 too deep for the plummet of human speech, yet what I 
 may, what I can tell you, that I will. Did I grudge 
 any power that I have to the poor, suffering ones ? Did 
 I keep back a part of the price for which I have ex- 
 changed soul and body ? That were to turn the power 
 against myself, and to slay body and soul alike, as by 
 the lightning's flash. But I am not alone in the 
 world ; Felix Gold is not one, but twofold. What of my 
 power such as it is, and whatever it be what of it I 
 expended in the world, came again to me, purer, 
 stronger, sweeter in my own home." 
 
 " Then your wife is a healer also ? " asked the doctor, 
 not disrespectfully ; he had seen too many of the man's 
 cures for that.
 
 HERETICS AND INFIDELS. 255 
 
 " Not so," said the other calmly, " for then it may 
 be I can not tell that she Ah, friend, how we stam- 
 mer when we speak of things like this ! How, whence 
 it comes, I can not tell you ; only this I know, that her 
 soul is anchored where mine is also fixed ; and when I 
 look into her eyes, when I touch her hands, her lips, 
 and kneel with her in prayer, sweet refreshment flows 
 in upon all my being. That it comes from God is true, 
 but to me it comes through her. Doctor, we may go to 
 heaven alone, but we can never be saved except as a 
 race." 
 
 " I know what you mean," said the doctor. " It isn't 
 work that kills men, it is worry ; and love, conjugal or 
 brotherly, creates a restful atmosphere in which one's 
 vitality is restored as fast as it is expended. I know 
 nothing about your vitalism ; vitality is my word." 
 
 " And what is vitality ? " asked Felix. 
 
 " Ah, there you have me," said the doctor. " Well, 
 then, our friend Deane has no one to restore the loss of 
 vitalism, hey ? But if there is no restful atmosphere in 
 her case " 
 
 " It is clouded by illness," said the other. " He 
 has double work to do treble work for himself, for 
 her soul, and her body. It is done, but he suffers ; he 
 expends all, and receives nothing ; by and by she will 
 restore all to him. See you not, friend, this love is the 
 deepest and strongest on earth ; there is no part of our 
 nature that it leaves untouched, and by its strength to 
 save we measure its power to lay waste and desolate."
 
 256 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 His mind remained full of this thought all day, and 
 perhaps by unconscious transference filled with it the 
 minds of others, for, as he sat silently with Cyril in 
 the late twilight, there entered to them the Keverend 
 Bennet Lane. " So you are feeling pretty well, old 
 man?" he said kindly. "That's right; but what you 
 want is to go away, you know." 
 
 " Every one tries to send me away," said Cyril. 
 " I don't see why, I am sure. Do I look uncomfort- 
 able?" 
 
 " Not at all, not in the least ; but oh, well, it's 
 good for a man, rouses him, gives him new subjects for 
 thought" 
 
 " I could rouse myself if there were any need of 
 it," returned Cyril ; " and as for new subjects for 
 thought" 
 
 " That's it exactly," broke in his friend eagerly ; 
 " you've thought too much and got morbid. Sometimes 
 to go away from our difficulties enables us to see them 
 more distinctly " 
 
 " Get a clearer focus on them," said Cyril. " But, 
 my dear boy, I've no special difficulties that I know of 
 I mean, in the way of action. So far as I am con- 
 cerned, I feel as though I had been away, as though I 
 were away now. But if there were anything for me to 
 do I could probably get up and do it ; only it happens 
 to seem best for all parties for me to lie perfectly still. 
 It's just as good as going away, I fancy, for enabling 
 other people to get a clear focus on me."
 
 HERETICS AND INFIDELS. 257 
 
 Bennet Lane smiled in spite of himself at the droll 
 tone in which this was said, but it was a smile half 
 sad, half superior. " My dear boy," he began, then 
 glanced toward Felix Gold, who had taken up a book, 
 and effaced himself so far as was possible to that vigor- 
 ous personality, " I wonder if I could have a word with 
 you alone," he said. 
 
 " Please don't," returned Cyril boyishly. " No, don't 
 look for your hat, Felix ; it is very well where it is. I 
 see apostolic succession in his eye, and I'd rather you'd 
 talk to him ; I'm not quite up to argument." 
 
 " Ah, if it were only in my eye, Deane ! The ques- 
 tion is, What do you mean to do with your life ? Will 
 you let it be spoiled, blighted, in the very outset of your 
 career ? " 
 
 " Is the work he has done this winter of a blight- 
 ing nature to one's life?" asked gently Felix Gold, 
 seeing that Cyril was really unequal to the conversation 
 which his friend seemed determined to thrust upon 
 him. 
 
 " You are speaking of one thing, Mr. Gold, and I of 
 another," said the Reverend Bennet, with some irrita- 
 tion. " Besides, a person may do a perfectly right thing 
 in a wrong way " 
 
 " May he ? How ? " asked Cyril. 
 
 " Well, as you did this winter. You worked like a 
 hero no doubt of that but it was not on Church lines 
 or in a spirit of obedience to the Church." 
 
 " Specify," said Cyril. 
 17
 
 258 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " "Well, for example, there were daily celebrations in 
 several churches, mine among them, but, though one 
 would think you needed such spiritual preparation for 
 the day's labors, I saw you only once of course you may 
 have gone elsewhere and then Well, I do not wish 
 to be rude " 
 
 " Then, he brought me with him," said Felix Gold. 
 " It is not rudeness, Mr. Lane ; you speak not as man, 
 but as ecclesiastic." 
 
 " I did not go elsewhere," said Cyril. " Let us clear 
 that ground at once. It was not that I did not wish it, 
 but we lived in a sort of quarantine, Gold and I, and it 
 was hardly safe. Your church was in the heart of the 
 infected district, and we could not well harm any one. 
 Besides, if you speak of heroes, who was more heroic 
 than yourself ? " 
 
 " I did no more than my duty," said the Keverend 
 Bennet, dismissing the matter with a wave of his hand. 
 " May I ask not as an inquisitor but a friend why 
 you did not come again ? " 
 
 "Would you have asked my friend?" said Cyril 
 gently. 
 
 " I should not have repelled him had he chosen to 
 come on his own responsibility." 
 
 " The responsibility of eating and drinking to my 
 condemnation ? " 
 
 " Exactly. The precise responsibility that rests on 
 every communicant." 
 
 " But you are too sincere, Mr. Lane, to pretend that
 
 HERETICS AND INFIDELS. 259 
 
 I, in your eyes, stand upon an equal footing with other 
 believers in respect of the sacrament." 
 
 " You are a good man, Mr. Gold, but you are not a 
 Churchman." 
 
 " Then you do not believe that Christ, my Master 
 and yours, comes to me in the holy supper as he does 
 to to Churchmen ? " 
 
 " I do not know, Mr. Gold. Who am I, to limit the 
 tender mercies of the loving Lord ? " 
 
 Felix Gold did not answer for a moment ; he sat 
 motionless, with his strong arms folded across his breast ; 
 a great light began to dawn in his dark eyes, and his 
 firm lips parted in a half-smile. Then, in the same soft, 
 sweet tone wherein he had spoken to Bennet, he said, as 
 if answering some one unseen by the others : 
 
 " Even so, dear Lord Jesus. Thou art not far from 
 any one of us. To put us out from the assemblies of 
 men is not to part us from thee. Only, dear Jesus, do 
 thou also remain with them, for they were lonely indeed 
 without thee ; and then, one day, thou wilt bring us all 
 together again." 
 
 Bennet Lane did not reply. He had not come to 
 Cyril as a censor, but full of concern at what he had 
 heard that day through a clergyman, one of the examin- 
 ing chaplains of the bishop of the diocese. This person 
 had informed him that his friend Cyril Deane had so 
 got his name up for eccentricities of doctrine, that if he 
 applied for priest's orders he would certainly be refused ; 
 and the best thing he could do would be to go out to his
 
 260 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 mission station as soon as possible. " It is a great pity 
 he ever changed his mind about that," said the chap- 
 lain ; " but it's the sort of thing very likely to happen. 
 When a young man puts his hand to the plow and looks 
 back, he's pretty sure to go down hill afterward." 
 
 Sitting there in the gray-walled room, with the 
 blood-red Maltese cross shimmering on the wall, and 
 looking on his^ friend's pure, transparently pale face, the 
 eyes alight with a sweet, solemn smile, Bennet Lane 
 could not feel that Cyril had gone down hill. And 
 there sat the man against whom he had felt a half -con- 
 temptuous irritation, the man of whom he had thought 
 as a tempter, one who had led Cyril astray. 
 
 And the man spoke softly, lovingly to the Lord to 
 whom Bennet also had consecrated his life, whom be- 
 neath all the rubbish of his ecclesiasticism he loved with 
 all his heart. Ay, he sat there, this schismatic, and, 
 with the confidence of one talking with a familiar 
 friend, interceded with the Lord to remain with his 
 Church, his peculiar people, set apart from the great 
 body of sectarians, hedged about with sacraments and 
 ordinances yet it never occurred to him to doubt the 
 presence of the Lord ; the real faith in him felt the real 
 faith of the others with a certainty that can not be dis- 
 puted. For Cyril's eyes also shone with the light of 
 that presence ; but Bennet Lane, priest and Churchman, 
 knew it only from them, as one now blind, but once a 
 seeing man, knows the glory of the sun by the warmth 
 of his friend's hand.
 
 HERETICS AND INFIDELS. 261- 
 
 Was the Lord present to them, aiid hidden from 
 him ? With a sharp, sudden pain at his heart that 
 wrung the moisture out upon his lashes, Bennet Lane 
 bowed his forehead upon his hand and owned that it 
 was just. For in the white light of that moment he 
 saw aright his feeling for Felix Gold : how he had half 
 envied, half despised him ; had resented his very virtues, 
 which had shone before men to glorify Christ, but not 
 the Church his Church, the Church of Bennet Lane. 
 And as he had never seen it before, he saw now, that he 
 would have rejoiced had Felix Gold been overtaken in a 
 fault, that he would have said to his friend, " See the 
 outcome of heresy ! " 
 
 But Jesus Christ, the Head of the Church nay, his 
 own familiar friend in whom he trusted had hidden 
 from him, the anointed priest, the face he revealed to 
 Cyril and to Felix Gold. 
 
 And it was very just. 
 
 A groan, half stifled, broke from him. Then, 
 through the darkness of his 'soul and the darkening 
 of his bodily eyes by the closed lids with their fringe 
 of misty tears, and the shadowing hand, came the low, 
 clear voice of Felix Gold, the heretic the man who 
 might not attempt to celebrate the holy supper, or 
 loose the chain of sin about the neck of a brother, 
 save by incurring the sin of sacrilege at the peril of 
 his own soul. 
 
 " ' Where two or three are gathered together in my 
 name, there am I in the midst of them.' In the midst,
 
 262 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 iny brother ; no nearer to one than another. It is but 
 our eyes that are holden." 
 
 How had the man so read his heart ? 
 
 There was no sacrilege in the words to Bennet Lane, 
 yet were they not indeed an absolution ? for out of the 
 midst of the darkness grew suddenly a Face. He could 
 not have described it, far less have pictured it on canvas 
 had the artist's power been his; there was no color, 
 there was scarcely form to the vision ; but the eyes were 
 full of pity, pardon, tenderness. 
 
 How long the silence lasted he never knew. It was 
 broken by a quick rap at the door, a tremulous hand 
 upon the knob, and Fritz Hermann entered, with an 
 agitated haste which seemed but to intensify the peace 
 of those within. 
 
 "Ah," he said with hushed vehemence, "you are 
 well here, good friends ; oh, you are very well in this 
 holy place ! I bring with me the devil of distraction and 
 dispeace ; drive out him, therefore, not me." 
 
 " You are welcome," said Cyril, holding out a lan- 
 guid hand. " Sit here beside me. We will try to help 
 you in whatever way you will." 
 
 " Will ? " said Fritz Hermann. Ach Gott, that I had 
 never willed ! " 
 
 " Then you had never lived," said Felix Gold. 
 
 " So ! and ach Gott, that I had never lived ! " he 
 said, with the same suppression of himself. " Cyril, I 
 am but come to say farewell only that."
 
 HERETICS AND INFIDELS. 263 
 
 " You go away ? " 
 
 " Ja ! ja wolil ! I go this night." He paused, as if 
 for breath, pressed his strong, white hands together, 
 palm to palm, struggled with himself, then burst forth 
 in a great cry : 
 
 " I must so ! I must put the ocean between me 
 and her ! " 
 
 " You love her ? " said Cyril, gently and unsurprised. 
 
 " I made my accursed experiments," he said, with 
 increased agitation. " She was but my tool, my instru- 
 ment, my corpus vile. I thought with pride that there 
 was to her no danger from me. Would I have harmed 
 her ? But I laid my will upon hers. She breathed, ate, 
 slept, as I commanded ; her whole physical nature was 
 responsive to me. The mind the soul what did I want 
 with these ? They lay asleep useless to me. Then 
 came you, and their slumbers were broken; the soul 
 answered your soul, and struggled against the body, 
 which was my bond -slave." 
 
 " But you tried to free her," said Cyril, whose very 
 lips had grown white. 
 
 " Tried strove agonized, but I could not," he 
 said hoarsely. " My own will had sprung from my con- 
 trol, as a spring bent too far flies back and wounds the 
 holder. We were bound together like two dead bodies. 
 Do I love her? I know not. Only I think of her 
 always ; all of me cries out for her ; therefore must I 
 flee, for, remaining, I should take that of her I may 
 have, but her soul would be thine, and she would die."
 
 264: FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " Her soul is God's," said Cyril Deane, and could say 
 no more. 
 
 "God's? Ay, if there be a God. Was it there I 
 erred ? Because her soul was God's ? " 
 
 " And your soul also," said Felix Gold. " Souls that 
 are his can meet in him only ; this is the essence of love 
 all love, the love of father and child, friend, brother, 
 sister, and of married hearts. This is the soul of love, 
 without which it is but dead and decaying. Love comes 
 down from the Father and goes to and fro with us 
 every day. Again, it lifts our hearts toward the 
 Father, for love is the very life of Christ, and God is 
 love." 
 
 Bennet Lane had raised his head and fixed his eyes 
 upon the speaker. 
 
 " Yes, yes," said Felix Gold, with strange solemnity, 
 " to blaspheme love, is it not to blaspheme God himself ? 
 To wield that strange power of look and touch the 
 lover's power over the body, neglecting, scorning the 
 heart, the soul ; or to cast aside as unholy, because with 
 one hand it touches earth, that form of love which the 
 Lord himself has chosen for his own emblem, the love 
 of the bridegroom for his bride that love which shares 
 most fully his own self-devotion, his creative power, in 
 which, through which, he has willed to redeem the 
 world. Friends, brothers, which blasphemy is worse ? " 
 
 " Mine ! " cried Fritz Hermann. " I divorced soul 
 and body; I bound her physical nature to me, and 
 repelled her soul. Ah, if she had indeed loved this
 
 HERETICS AND INFIDELS. 265 
 
 Arthur, she had been safe ; he was but a mirage of her 
 fancy, a phantom evoked by my power to guard her 
 against you, Cyril Deane, but vanishing at a glance of 
 your eye. Mine my crime is worse ; but she hates 
 me; her will, as it frees itself, repels me from her. 
 She will never love me; and lest, in my madness, I 
 should harm her, I will put the ocean between us." 
 
 Then Bennet Lane arose and went slowly out into 
 the afternoon sunshine. And it was with him as with 
 one who, having dwelt always in a valley, is suddenly 
 transported to a mountain top, whence he sees clearly 
 the relation of his village to those around him, and 
 the source of the river on whose banks he sported in 
 
 childhood. 
 
 i 
 
 " Have I been so far wrong ? " he said. " What is it 
 to be a priest ? And what is love ? Is this the angelic 
 life? No. But are we angels? Again, no. Then 
 why should mortal man be more wise than his Maker? 
 For surely the Christ-life is better than that of any 
 angel, and the Christ-life is a life of love."
 
 CHAPTEK III. 
 
 " AS YOU WILL ! " 
 
 "DEAB Meta, will you speak a little with our 
 brother Cyril ? He is waiting to see you." 
 
 Meta started slightly, glanced sharply at Sophie, 
 grew even paler than her wont, then laid aside her 
 book, and rose quietly and composed. " I shall be very 
 glad to see him," she said. " He is in the parlor ? " 
 
 Perhaps Sophie was a trifle disappointed. It had 
 now been more than a fortnight since she had kissed 
 Meta's lips and felt the beating of her heart ; but from 
 that moment both heart and mind of her friend had 
 been to her a sealed book. 
 
 Day by day the girl had withdrawn more and more 
 into herself. Cyril's name had been freely mentioned 
 between them, his indisposition and gradual return to 
 health freely discussed. The subject had apparently 
 aroused in Meta no emotion ; her eyes had not faltered, 
 neither had her cheek flushed, and she had given 
 Sophie no opportunity to learn anything from the 
 throbbings of her heart. 
 
 " It is strange, strange of her," his wife said to Felix. 
 " I am sure oh, very sure that she loves him, yet "
 
 "AS YOU WILL!" 267 
 
 " There is no ' yet ' in love, my Miranda," he said 
 tenderly. " If she love him, leave it there. When he 
 asks her she will tell him all." 
 
 No, in love there is no " yet " ! 
 
 Cyril and Meta knew that very well. It was the 
 same room in which they had first met ; he thought of 
 it as she came to meet him in her favorite white, soft, 
 flowing robe, with her brown, heavy waves of hair cres- 
 cent-clasped as then at the back of her beautiful head, 
 and rippling far below her waist. But as she raised her 
 eyes to his, he saw that there had been indeed a change. 
 The dreamy, half-conscious look that had pained him 
 then had wholly disappeared ; she was calm, collected, 
 almost cold, yet the coldness, the slightness of her touch 
 as the white fingers lay a moment in his palm, though 
 they stung him with sharp pain, came at least from 
 Meta herself, Christ's free-woman, not in bondage to 
 any man, and beginning to be delivered from the bond- 
 age of her own will. 
 
 " I am glad you are better," he said ; " you know 
 how I grieved for you in your sickness and sorrow." 
 
 He could not guess how the sound of his voice, for 
 which she had so longed, shook her with joy and terror. 
 Yet the tears rose quickly at his reference to little 
 Hugh, but she dared not yield to them. 
 
 " I am still weak," she said ; " I can not speak 
 You, too, have been ill you look 
 
 " Older, they tell me," he said, for she had over- 
 rated her strength and self-control ; she could not tell
 
 268 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 him how he looked to her, when her eyes so long had 
 been empty of his image. 
 
 Yes, he looked older ; the boyishness had gone for- 
 ever from his face. In its place was a strange, tender 
 sweetness and brightness, half stern in its utter purity. 
 She could not answer him, but he went on lightly 
 enough : 
 
 " We all grow older, you know, and ic does one no 
 harm to look so." 
 
 " No, no harm," said Meta. She could not talk to 
 him ; a weight was on her tongue, her limbs were pal- 
 sied, her voice came from far away and had in it a sound 
 of tears. Yet she was very quiet and composed a little 
 sad, perhaps, but that was only natural. She took up a 
 fan from a table at her side, a fragile Chinese trifle of 
 ivory and peacock's feathers, and waved it lightly to and 
 fro. 
 
 " Yes," said Cyril, " it is growing warm. I am glad 
 you are off so soon to the sea-side." 
 
 " Sophie needs the change as much perhaps more 
 than I," she said ; " and this little cottage presented it- 
 self. Felix said it was providential, and I suppose he 
 knows about those things. It is an excellent opportunity 
 of returning some of my obligations to her." 
 
 " Yes," he said, " that is providential." 
 
 At least it was a possible thing to talk about, and, 
 difficult as was speech, silence was certainly impossible ; 
 so she went on carelessly enough. Cyril turned away 
 his eyes from her face, yet, in spite of her composure,
 
 "AS YOU WILL!" 269 
 
 her even repellent manner, he felt passing from one to 
 the other wave currents of electric sympathy. He did 
 not understand her ; what man would ? He did not take 
 time to reason about it or know as Meta knew that 
 one moment's silence would have melted the ice-film 
 between ah, not between their souls ; it was only hand 
 and tongue that seemed fettered by the frost-giants. 
 And the words which had been burning on his lips were 
 frozen there. Afterward he said to himself, " She was 
 not ready to hear me, and it is right I should await her 
 pleasure," but at the moment a great sadness filled his 
 eyes, and the ice-film touched for a moment his heart, 
 that loved her so. 
 
 " They will be my guests, you know," she went 
 on ; " Sophie constantly, and Felix will come back 
 and forth as he can. I am glad to be rich for their 
 sakes." 
 
 " Francis Merton is not with you ? " 
 
 "He has returned to India. I fear that I disap- 
 pointed him. He hoped I should be a sort of high- 
 priestess, seeress, prophetess, of theosophy. You see, I 
 disappoint every one." 
 
 The words escaped her almost without her volition ; 
 she would have given worlds to recall them ; but Cyril 
 only said gravely : " Is it not rather that these shallow 
 fountains disappoint you ? Theosophy can never 
 quench the thirst of the soul." 
 
 " I do not know," she said, stupidly as she felt, but 
 words would not come to her. Then for anything was
 
 270 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 better than silence she hurried out very stammeringly : 
 " I am trying to learn ; Felix is teaching me." 
 
 " None could do so better," he said. 
 
 "And you," she said, "you are to leave Fairtown 
 also ? " 
 
 " You know," he answered, " I was promised to the 
 work of a missionary before my ordination. Then it 
 seemed right I am sure it was right that I should 
 come to Fairtown. Now " he hesitated, looked at her 
 wistfully "it has given me great pain," he said simply. 
 
 She raised her eyes to his with a look of full, clear 
 comprehension ; for the thought, the image, of herself, 
 fled away at his appeal. But she did not speak. 
 
 " But for Felix I could hardly have borne it," he 
 went on. " Doubted, misunderstood, suspected on every 
 side, my every action misconstrued, my work ham- 
 pered." 
 
 " And you were never sorry you had come to Fair- 
 town ? " 
 
 " I knew I know still that God sent me. May I 
 tell you how ? " 
 
 She answered him again only with her eyes, but he 
 was satisfied. He told her, bending forward in his chair, 
 with his elbow on his knee and his eyes upon the mat- 
 ted floor, of that early eucharist in the college chapel 
 and Arthur's presence bidding him forth. " When I saw 
 you, and knew that he had loved you, I believed that I 
 knew why ; but oh, the depths of meaning that lay still 
 behind!"
 
 "AS YOU WILL!" 271 
 
 She did not answer ; the ice-film was gone, and she 
 was not afraid of the silence now. 
 
 " Then do they indeed come back to us? "she said 
 dreamily. 
 
 " To do God's bidding, and of their own free will," 
 he said. " Arthur sent me to you, and you to me. Have 
 you forgotten your dream ? Meta, you have not forgot- 
 ten Arthur ? " 
 
 " No," she said ; then, with her white hands clasped 
 upon her knee and her clear eyes on his, she went on : 
 " But it was only fancy a girl's fancy, I think ; I could 
 not have loved him." 
 
 " And did he know this, in the light of the other 
 world? Did he therefore send me " He checked 
 himself, waited, spoke again : " Meta, for whatever pur- 
 pose I was sent here, my work in Fairtown is over. In 
 another month I shall no longer be Dr. Lydgate's assist- 
 ant. There is no need of a heavenly message now ; my 
 duty is clear and plain. I shall go back to my old 
 
 plans ; in the autumn I shall sail for C . You are 
 
 going away in a few days ; will you try, until I see you 
 again, to think what it is, this life, this work, to which 
 I am going? I will send you books, papers, mission 
 journals. Will you read them ? " 
 
 He had risen to his feet and taken her hands in his. 
 She let them lie there ; her dark, fringed eyelids flut- 
 tered, as though she strove once more to answer him 
 with a look, but the eyes remained hidden and the lips 
 were dumb.
 
 272 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " As you will," lie said after a pause ; " I will not 
 ask your promise even for such a little thing. Only 
 this, Meta : when I leave JFairtown, may I come to you by 
 the sea?" 
 
 Still she did not answer. 
 
 " Not even that ? " he said. " Well, as you choose ; let 
 it be as you choose." 
 
 He did not let her hands fall abruptly ; gently, ten- 
 derly, he folded them together before he released them 
 and turned to go. At the door he paused, looked back, 
 and, seeing her stand statue-like, with folded hands and 
 bent head, even as he had left her, he returned swiftly, 
 and for a moment bent over her, without touching a 
 thread of her falling hair or a fold of her white robe. 
 The silence of that moment was holier than prayer, 
 sweeter than a caress, more tender than a benediction ; 
 but Meta did not speak. 
 
 When the outer door clanged to behind him, and his 
 steps were no more heard upon the gravel walk, she 
 turned quietly away to her own room ; but once safe 
 behind her bolted door and lowered blinds, the passion 
 and agony within her broke forth with fierce, silent 
 vehemence ; and, for how long she did not measure, the 
 frightened Sophie heard her pacing back and forth, and 
 guessed at the wringing of the white hands and the 
 tearless sobs which she neither saw nor heard. 
 
 " But why should she weep, since they love one an- 
 other ? " she asked of Felix. 
 
 He smiled tenderly. " Who of us can read the heart
 
 "AS YOU WILL!" 273 
 
 of another ? " he said. " Is it not agony to be tossed 
 upon the waves of such a sea as the sea of earthly love ? 
 And our Meta has not yet learned how to quell the 
 storm; for in her heart the gentle Jesus lies still 
 asleep." 
 
 18
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 "THE ELEMENTS SHALL MELT WITH FERVENT HEAT." 
 
 IT was more than four weeks later that Cyril Deane 
 entered Dr. Lydgate's study to take leave of his some 
 time rector. The doctor's good-humored face was a 
 trifle paler than usual, his keen eyes less clear and more 
 unsteady. It was indeed with deep regret that he parted 
 from his young deacon, in whose departure the loss of 
 his son returned upon him with the fresh and vivid 
 grief of a year before. 
 
 And for this reason the rector was rather more 
 stingingly sarcastic and epigrammatic than ever before. 
 
 " So you're off, are you? " he said. " And how many 
 more scrapes will you get into before you sail, I 
 wonder ? " 
 
 " None, I hope," returned Cyril, smiling. 
 
 " Humph ! and your first objective point, I imagine, 
 
 will be Z . Sea air, you know, is good for your 
 
 complaint. How is she, by the by ? " 
 
 " Miss Leonard ? Not so well as I had hoped," re- 
 plied Cyril, his bright face clouding with anxiety. " I 
 have not heard from herself directly, but Gold was there 
 for a day last week, and "
 
 "THE ELEMENTS SHALL MELT." 275 
 
 " Oil, she is just homesick for you," said the rector 
 easily. " She'll be able to sail with you in the fall ; no 
 trouble at all about that." 
 
 He walked quickly once or twice across the room 
 with hurrying, agitated footsteps ; then, laying a hand 
 on Cyril's shoulder: "If you had known the girl she 
 was ! " he said, " eager, ardent, impressible Ah, that 
 was the trouble too impressible; she took color from 
 every one with whom she came in contact. I was very 
 fond of her no one could have helped loving her yet 
 I opposed Arthur's fancy as soon as there was a decent 
 excuse ; and you'll not thank me, Deane, but " 
 
 " Go on, sir. I shall thank you for whatever you 
 like to say." 
 
 " You see, I know her so well," said the doctor ; 
 " and temperaments like hers there's a curious sort of 
 self-distrust in all willful people; but Meta why, it 
 amounted to self-immolation. Any one with a stronger 
 or at least a firmer will than herg, she was ready 
 to submit to blindly, if only they held out to her a 
 promise of something beyond, something higher, which 
 she wanted, vaguely enough, without knowing its exact 
 nature. Then came disappointment, reaction, rebellion. 
 You see, that was why I could not even attempt to see 
 her in my case, there was some natural resentment. 
 If there is any hope of her healthful spiritual develop- 
 ment it is in you, my boy ; but, oh, for your own sake 
 and for hers, be careful how you overpersuade her." 
 Cyril did not reply, and the doctor, after a little
 
 276 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 more tramping, threw himself into his arm-chair and 
 went on in a lighter tone : 
 
 " I'm not sure but I should sail without her, and let 
 her come afterward if she felt inclined ; then you'd be 
 sure of her free consent ; otherwise but it would hard- 
 ly do, eh ? " 
 
 Cyril shook his head. "Monastic discipline, and 
 outside the order of Providence," he said. " Besides, 
 it is doubtful if I could either persuade or overper- 
 suade." 
 
 He passed his hand wearily across his brow as he 
 spoke. 
 
 " Do you know," said the doctor, " that vitalism does 
 not seem to agree with you ? " 
 
 " Because I am not perfectly vitalized," said Cyril 
 eimply. 
 
 " Ah, just so. But I am glad to have another op- 
 portunity of talking it over with you. Why don't you 
 give it to the world in pamphlet form ? " 
 
 " It has hardly shaped itself clearly enough as yet, 
 doctor ; but perhaps I may, if " 
 
 " If ? Oh, I see. Yes, that, of course, must be settled 
 first," said the rector. " Come, now, as I understand 
 you, vitalism is simply will-power ? " 
 
 " Simply ? No, not simply" returned Cyril, with 
 brightening eyes. " Take it from the other side, sir. 
 Define hypnotism." 
 
 "Hypnotism? Sleep." 
 
 " But what is sleep ? "
 
 "THE ELEMENTS SHALL MELT/' 277 
 
 " Why, sleep well, sleep is a condition in which the 
 senses and faculties are dormant " 
 
 " Dormant ! Now, Dr. Lydgate." 
 
 " Eh ? Oh, yes, dormeo Humph ! same word, isn't 
 it ? See here, young man, criticism is my line, not defi- 
 nition. You define, now, and I'll criticise." 
 
 " I should say," said Cyril, " though really I haven't 
 thought it out, that in sleep the senses and faculties are 
 inactive." 
 
 " Are they ? But how about the man who hears in 
 his sleep a knock at his door, dreams along journey full 
 of incidents, and, ending in a railroad accident, yet 
 wakes before the servant has finished knocking and tells 
 him it is near train time. I should not call that man's 
 hearing, memory, and imagination inactive, by any 
 means." 
 
 " Then insert the word ' seem,' " said Cyril. " Seem 
 to be inactive." 
 
 " But how about talking in one's sleep, and all the 
 phenomena of somnambulism ? " 
 
 " Ha ! I have it ! " cried the young man, after a 
 moment's thought. " Sleep is a condition in which 
 not only the bodily powers, but mind, memory, will^ and 
 imagination, pass temporarily, though perhaps not 
 wholly, from the control of the ego." 
 
 "That's good," said Dr. Lydgate. "And hypno- 
 sis?" 
 
 " Hypnosis is that condition in which the rule of 
 the ego over the individual "
 
 278 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " Is it not that rule which makes him an indi- 
 vidual?" 
 
 " Undoubtedly. And hypnosis is the subjection of 
 the ego to another personality, sometimes complete, or 
 nearly so, as in the various phenomena of mesmerism ; 
 sometimes partial, as in cases of what we call bad influ- 
 ence." 
 
 " Is not a good influence sometimes hypnotic ? " 
 
 " Hypnotic power may be used for good ends, and 
 often is," said Cyril. " In cases where the ego of the 
 subject is so dominated by his evil passions as to be 
 helpless well, I suppose it would be a sort of moral 
 imprisonment, reformative or otherwise in its effects, 
 that's all. We should only have to consider the reac- 
 tion on the hypnotizer, of which I should be afraid." 
 
 "And vitalism?" 
 
 "Vitalism does not dominate, but emancipates, 
 strengthens in short, vitalizes the ego, which then 
 works out the unification and salvation of the indi- 
 vidual in fear and trembling. There is no danger in 
 it either to subject or agent, for its own old beautiful 
 name is love." 
 
 " Is there no reactive effect on the vitalizer ? " 
 
 " There may seem to be," said Cyril, " but it comes 
 not from his power on others, but from their power 
 upon him. Gold's theory is a little different from this ; 
 but so it looks to me. We are all walking magnets, 
 you know, doctor " 
 
 " Humph ! By the by," said Dr. Lydgate, " what is
 
 "THE ELEMENTS SHALL MELT." 279 
 
 the final result of your researches into spiritualism ? Of 
 course you reject the legerdemain theory ? " 
 
 " It doesn't account for a quarter of the facts," said 
 Cyril. 
 
 " No ; I have been so informed by credible witnesses 
 of phenomena, such as materialization, under circum- 
 stances which precluded the idea of fraud." 
 
 "Hypnosis may explain materializations," said 
 Cyril thoughtfully. 
 
 " Is it possible to hypnotize a number of persons at 
 once ? " 
 
 " I believe that is held to be still an open question ; 
 but my own theory would be that it is more than pos- 
 sible, since moral influence is cumulative in a sort of 
 geometrical ratio with the number of individuals. It 
 is not that the medium hypnotizes them all at once, 
 but that they hypnotize each other. Look at the blind, 
 unreasoning fury of an angry mob, the wild terror of one 
 struck with panic." 
 
 " I see," said Dr. Lydgate. " But even hypnotism 
 does not account for all the phenomena of spiritual- 
 ism." 
 
 "No. When a heavy table is shattered, a piano 
 walks around on its own legs, or a pitcher of water is 
 brought in by invisible hands and emptied on the 
 heads of those present " 
 
 " It would depend on the weather," said Dr. Lyd- 
 gate, " how I liked that sort of legerdemain." 
 
 " And in cases like that at the Hermitage, where it
 
 280 FROM DUSK TO DAWX. 
 
 was certainly not legerdemain," said Cyril. " Doctor, 
 I said just now that we are walking magnets. Do we 
 know the limits of our magnetic power, or estimate its 
 influence upon matter ? If matter is only the result of 
 a more or less unstable equilibrium of opposing forces, 
 can we venture to estimate the effect of introducing 
 such a force as vital magnetism directed by the human 
 will ? " 
 
 " For instance," said the doctor. 
 
 "For instance, causing iron to- float, the walls of 
 Jericho to fall, bread and fish to multiply indefinitely, 
 or a mountain to be taken up and to be cast into the 
 depths of the sea." 
 
 " What a lot of digging and dynamite that would 
 save ! " said the doctor. 
 
 " ' His yoke is easy, and his burden light,' if we 
 would learn his way," said Cyril. 
 
 " Well, but after deducting hypnosis and vital 
 magnetism, is there any residuum of spiritualistic phe- 
 nomena which in your opinion justifies a belief in the 
 interference of departed souls, not of a very high order 
 of intelligence or spirituality ? " 
 
 " George MacDonald thinks so," returned Cyril. 
 " At present I can only say that it may be possible, but 
 that our psychic development is yet too imperfect to 
 allow of even a true scientific investigation. What we 
 are sure of is that the method of these spirits if such 
 there are is the method of hypnotism. It does not 
 enfranchise, but enslaves, the ego; and until we our-
 
 "THE ELEMENTS SHALL MELT." 281 
 
 selves attain a higher stage of development, our wisest 
 course is to let them alone. In our present stage it is 
 evident that we can not help them, and that they must 
 therefore inevitably injure us. When we are able to 
 meet them on the spiritual plane of existence, and assist 
 in their vitalization and resurrection " 
 
 " Whew ! " said the doctor. " Kesurrection ? Is 
 that" 
 
 " The ultimate result of vitalism, complete vitalisiu," 
 returned Cyril. " ' Behold, I tell you a mystery. We 
 shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a 
 moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump. 
 For the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be 
 raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed.' " 
 
 " Changed but how ? As it has always been con- 
 sidered one of the deepest mysteries of the faith, I pre- 
 sume you will find no difficulty in explaining it." 
 
 " I merely venture to speculate, Dr. Lydgate, when 
 I say that the change is perhaps analogous to that of 
 graphite into a diamond, or a bar of steel into a 
 magnet.'* 
 
 "Or both combined?" 
 
 " We must combine both, I think, and add all the 
 transformations and changes wrought by electricity and 
 vital magnetism before we can form even a mental 
 image of the resurrection body. Perhaps the theoso- 
 phists are right about polarization of material cells, 
 doctor. For the will, you know, we decided the proper 
 term to be centralization; but as thought effects a
 
 282 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 change of brain substance, and determines its convo- 
 lutions " 
 
 " Or does the redistribution of brain substance pro- 
 duce thought ? " 
 
 " Well, you know, Fiske decides that the ultimate 
 cause of thought is a psychic shock, producing a wave 
 of brain-matter, which, one would say, is thought. 
 This psychic shock, I should say, is the action of an- 
 other ego upon ours ultimately of course, of the high- 
 est of all, the Divine Ego the great Self, as Max Miil- 
 ler calls him. Now, if the ego can transform, or trans- 
 pose, brain matter, why may it not, through the ac- 
 tion of a will correctly centralized, redistribute polar- 
 ize, if you like every material particle of the body, 
 which will then bear something of the same relation to 
 its former state as a snow crystal bears to a drop of 
 water?" 
 
 " I seem to gain a faint glimmering of an idea of 
 what you mean," said Dr. Lydgate. 
 
 " It is more than I could expect," said Cyril. " I 
 confess, however, that I like the image of the crystal or 
 the diamond ; it brings out better than any other the 
 idea of incorruption and unchangeableness. For we 
 are very sure of one thing about the resurrection body 
 as there is no corruption, there is no waste ; it is mat- 
 ter in a state of perfectly stable equilibrium, in which 
 all opposite forces are absorbed, unified in the life- 
 force ' 
 
 " Death swallowed up in victory."
 
 "THE ELEMENTS SHALL MELT." 283 
 
 " And as there is no change or disintegration, so the 
 body has no need of nutrition or reproduction." 
 
 " But they eat only the fruit of the Tree of Life, and 
 neither marry nor are given in marriage," said the doc- 
 tor. But this change will it be sudden, or gradual ? in- 
 dividual, or racial ? Can a man attain it for and by him- 
 self, or must it come through natural selection after 
 many generations?" 
 
 " It would seem that individuals may have attained 
 to it alone," said Cyril ; " Enoch and Elijah, for example, 
 without death, and Moses, perhaps, through death. 
 The theory of the Church has been for many ages that 
 the martyrs at death attained the resurrection body, 
 which fits in curiously enough with the spiritualistic 
 doctrine that blood is the medium of materialization." 
 
 " Enoch, Elijah, Moses. But, then, how is Christ 
 the first fruits?" 
 
 "A sheaf need not be absolutely first in order of 
 time, doctor, if it be larger, finer, and fitter for presen- 
 tation in the Temple. Besides, eternal life has nothing 
 to do with time ; and therefore Enoch, Elijah, and 
 Moses, if they have attained unto the resurrection of the 
 dead, did so in the spirit and power of Christ, who is 
 therefore the first fruits of our race." 
 
 " "Well put," said the doctor. " I thought you would 
 have left out the last part, and then I should have had 
 you. Go on." 
 
 "As for heredity," continued Cyril, "it is certain 
 that it has already exerted a wonderful power in the re-
 
 284 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 demption of soul and body, though, its effects are so 
 complicated with those of training and environment 
 that it is difficult to judge of them alone. But I do 
 not see why the particles of the body may not be so 
 modified by heredity as to have an innate tendency 
 toward the final change, which must always, however, 
 be sudden at the last. It was so in the case of Elijah, if 
 that be what is meant by the chariot of fire ; and cer- 
 tainly it was so at the resurrection of the Lord Jesus." 
 
 And" 
 
 " And so also will it be at the resurrection of the 
 just. ' For them also that sleep in Jesus ' that's a 
 striking figure to compare with our definition of 
 sleep ! " 
 
 " The sleep of death, in which the body passes en- 
 tirely from the control of the ego. Yes, it is." 
 
 " They shall come," said Cyril, with his face aglow, 
 " and we which remain shall be caught up to meet him 
 in the air. With a great oneness of effort, in him and 
 by him, we or rather he shall fashion anew the body 
 of our humiliation in which we now groan, desiring to 
 be delivered." 
 
 "'And the whole creation groaneth and travaileth 
 in pain together until now.' " 
 
 " ' The earnest expectation of the creature waiteth 
 for the revealing of the sons of God'; the efflux of 
 vital magnetism itself, transformed and informed by 
 the Spirit, shall melt the elements as with fervent heat, 
 and there shall be a new heaven and new earth."
 
 "THE ELEMENTS SHALL MELT." 285 
 
 " The reign of the saints. But how of the wicked 
 and the heathen ? for you have spoken only of those 
 who sleep in Jesus." 
 
 " ' The dead in Christ shall rise first,' " said Cyril. 
 
 " Then, we that are alive," said the rector. 
 
 " Yes, sir ; but you see the point is that nothing is 
 said of the wicked at all, anywhere in the Bible, with 
 the exception of a single parable. I have heard people 
 argue that for the wicked and impenitent there could 
 be no resurrection. I am myself inclined to hope for a 
 great missionary enterprise, a crusade of Christ and his 
 saints against the kingdom of death." 
 
 " An attempt to- vitalize hell," said Dr. Lydgate. 
 
 " Does not St. Peter tell us of one attempt, when 
 he went and preached unto the spirits in prison ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes, of course. Well, at least there is noth- 
 ing narrow or cramped about your speculations, Deane. 
 Are there any limits to your spirit of prophecy ? " 
 
 " Only St. Paul's," said Cyril. ' For he must reign, 
 till he have put all his enemies under his feet. The 
 last enemy that shall be abolished is death. And when 
 all things have been subjected unto him, then shall the 
 Son also himself be subjected unto him which did sub- 
 ject all things unto him, that God may be all in all.' " 
 
 " I see. By the by, doesn't your theory of vitalism 
 throw some light on the sin against the Holy Ghost ? " 
 
 " It surely does, though I had not happened to think 
 of it. Vitalisis, I trust, is more or less advanced in all 
 of us ; for those in whom the Spirit has been utterly
 
 286 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 crushed out and driven away there does seem very little 
 hope, humanly speaking." 
 
 " Speaking any way, if it have been utterly crushed 
 out. That point our human judgment can never de- 
 cide ; but certainly, where there is no life, there is noth- 
 ing for vitalism to work on. So this forces us to admit 
 the possibility that some may finally be lost." 
 
 " Or annihilated," said Cyril. " But while a soul 
 continues to exist there must still be hope." 
 
 " Ah, another point. This vitalism of course, bod- 
 ily discipline has very much to do with it ; but do you 
 imagine that any special dietary regimen can affect it to 
 an appreciable extent ? " 
 
 " If vitalism is of the soul a moral influence and 
 transforms the body through the working of vital mag- 
 netism, food for the soul is more to it than food for the 
 body." 
 
 " The body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ 
 preserve thy body and soul unto everlasting life." 
 
 " Given, shall I say chiefly, in the Lord's Supper ? I 
 dare not say chiefly. I will say, given most perceptibly 
 to the outward man. I believe that many a devout soul 
 has felt, realized, the real presence of the Lord first at 
 the altar ; afterward it has become a constant abiding. 
 I am devoutly thankful, for one, that I was brought 
 up a High Church Episcopalian." 
 
 " The contribution of the Episcopal Church to the 
 great Catholic Church of the future," said the doctor, 
 " will be her ritual and sacramental system. The tend-
 
 "THE ELEMENTS SHALL MELT." 287 
 
 ency to realize that we are not pure spirits, but men of 
 flesh and blood, with senses and tastes which demand 
 and should receive gratification, is too evident in all 
 denominations to be ignored. But at present, I am 
 sorry to say, our dear old Church keeps her treasure 
 very closely wrapped in a napkin, and buried in her own 
 fold, round which she has erected a wall of separation 
 that has got to be thrown down, Deane thrown down ; 
 and you men of the younger generation have got that 
 job cut out for you." 
 
 " A social democracy would make short work of it," 
 returned Cyril. " One can not be a socialist and a 
 separatist too. In fact, I think the first step toward 
 universal vitalisis is universal brotherhood in temporal 
 things. Under an individualistic social system we can 
 be saved only one by one, as individuals ; to redeem the 
 race we must first incarnate the idea that we are mem- 
 bers one of another." 
 
 " But about the food question, ' the perfect way in 
 diet ' ? " said the doctor ; " for there must be a perfect 
 way, you know." 
 
 " ' The Son of Man came eating and drinking,' " 
 said Cyril thoughtfully ; " and we have this broad rule 
 from St. Paul, ' Eat what is set before you, asking no 
 questions for conscience' sake.' But this, of course, only 
 establishes the general fundamental truth that bodily 
 food has not the relation to spiritual life which theos- 
 ophists, for example, claim for it. Further than this we 
 can only say that all stimulants and narcotics which
 
 288 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 affect the brain and will-power the moral sense, as 
 doctors tell us inevitably retard or destroy vitalisis ; 
 opium, alcoholic liquors, tobacco, even tea and coffee, be- 
 yond a certain limit, or perhaps altogether I am not 
 sure of this." 
 
 " No, don't be sure," said the doctor ; " I do like my 
 cup of coffee in the morning." 
 
 " So do I," returned Cyril ; " but I have been ques- 
 tioning whether it is best for me. It stimulates the 
 action of the brain, and produces an exhilaration, a glow 
 of generous purpose and sympathy, at times, which are 
 very pleasant, but which, as they do not proceed from 
 the ego, are a sort of semi-hypnotism, and should be 
 avoided." 
 
 " That principle would land you in the prohibition 
 of all tonics and medicines." 
 
 " Certainly their habitual use," said Cyril, smiling. 
 " I do not know that it could do any harm to take a 
 cup of coffee once in six months or so, for a head- 
 ache. And surely, doctor, vitalism is worth the sac- 
 rifice of more than bodily food. Do you suppose that 
 it was only through death that our Lord could assume 
 that which we call the resurrection body ? " 
 
 " Oh, I am learning from you," said the doctor. 
 
 " It seems to me," returned Cyril, " that, if there 
 could be to him degrees of hardness, it must have 
 been more difficult to transform crystallize, one might 
 almost say a dead body than a living one. Besides, 
 as we know of one instance before his death when
 
 "THE ELEMENTS SHALL MELT." 289 
 
 he allowed his glory to shine forth, we may assume 
 that he might have done so at any other moment, 
 and that consequently he was not merely born of the 
 Virgin, but of his own will took our flesh, in all its 
 infirmities. I believe that the first step in the path 
 along which I have been so wonderfully led was the 
 restoration to our calendar, by the General Convention, 
 of the Feast of the Transfiguration." 
 
 Dr. Lydgate did not reply, and for a moment there 
 was silence. Then Cyril rose and held out his hand ; 
 his features worked, and for a while he could not 
 speak. " It is natural enough," he said presently, " this 
 wish to remain always, to build tabernacles on the 
 spot where one has seen so glorious a vision." 
 
 " But one must go forth to the world and cast 
 out devils," said the rector, affectionately. " God bless 
 you, my boy, and make you happy if it be his will." 
 
 " Happiness or misery, as He pleases," said Cyril, but 
 his eyes were dim. 
 
 As he left the house Cyril was able to say farewell 
 to Mrs. Lydgate. She arose from her sewing-chair as 
 he entered the room, and gave him her hand with what 
 she meant for kindness. He looked rather wistfully 
 into the cold, hard face of this woman who had never 
 liked him, whom, in truth, he had never been able to 
 like. It was bitter to him to leave, not an enemy, but 
 an unfriend, behind him, and he pressed her hand 
 earnestly as he said his good-by. 
 
 " Good-by, Mr. Deane," said the lady. " I wish you 
 19
 
 290 PROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 a pleasant journey, and such a measure of success and 
 happiness as is good for us fallible creatures." 
 
 " Thank you very much, Mrs. Lydgate," he said, a 
 little ruefully ; " but I fear you think me very fallible 
 indeed." 
 
 "It is hardly my place to judge you," returned 
 the rector's lady. " In fact, Mr. Deane, I have never 
 had much sympathy with foreign missions " which 
 seemed to have little to do with Cyril's fallibility. 
 " I think we should do better to Christianize the heathen 
 at our doors. But if there must be such, I fancy you 
 will do better at that work than at any other." 
 
 " Safely out of the way, and less likely to get other 
 folk in trouble," he said. "At all events, you will wish 
 me Godspeed, and now and then remember me in your 
 prayers ? " 
 
 " I will do that with all my heart," she replied, with 
 a brighter smile and warmer manner than he had ever 
 seen in her. " And if I have seemed hard or unjust to 
 you, Mr. Deane as Nina thinks I beg you to believe 
 that it was unintentional. I confess that I do not 
 quite understand you, or sympathize in the course you 
 have pursued." 
 
 " How often do we understand one another ? " said 
 Cyril. " But there is One who always understands and 
 always sympathizes, both with you and with me, Mrs. 
 Lydgate. Good-by." 
 
 Nina was shedding tears in an open and undisguised 
 manner ; which was a real relief to her mother, since that
 
 "THE ELEMENTS SHALL MELT." 291 
 
 lady was wise enough to know how quickly ready tears 
 are dried. 
 
 Cyril took the girl's hand in both his. " Good-by, 
 dear little friend," he said. 
 
 " I do believe he is a good young man ! " said Mrs. 
 Lydgate, when he had left them. 
 
 " He's a saint on earth," said Nina indignantly ; but 
 though her mother looked superior, she kept back the 
 sarcastic words that rose to her lips. 
 
 Late that evening, Bennet Lane came hurriedly up 
 the steps of the rectory. 
 
 "Oh, is Dr. Lydgate out?" he said to Nina, who 
 happened to be the only one at home. " I have a mes- 
 sage to him from Deane." 
 
 " Have you ? He got off this afternoon, I suppose," 
 said the girl. " Oh, dear, how empty Fairtown is 
 without him ! " 
 
 Her lip quivered as she spoke. Bennet Lane re- 
 garded her tenderly. Some instinct told him that this 
 feeling, so openly expressed, was not love, but only its 
 exquisite forerunner, the fair, false dawn of love's 
 eternal day. Within the white walls of the Castle of 
 Innocence in the Valley of Childhood, the sleeping 
 heart of the maiden still awaited the kiss of the true 
 prince. Where was he ? 
 
 Bennet Lane felt his own mental question thrill 
 through him, even to the ends of his fingers ; but he 
 was strangely abashed in the presence of this young 
 girl. How low, unworthy, ignoble, now appeared to
 
 292 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 him his former theories of love how degrading his 
 thought of womanhood ! A deep color came to his 
 face ; his heart beat with loud, heavy throbs. 
 
 Nina looked up in surprise at his silence. " Has 
 anything happened to him ? " she asked in alarm. 
 
 " To him ? No, nothing to him, personally," he said ; 
 
 " only he will not reach Z as soon as he expected. 
 
 He had a telegram summoning him to his brother, who 
 is very ill." 
 
 " Poor Meta ! " said Nina. 
 
 " If it could result in breaking up that affair " said 
 Bennet, looking at the sweet, grave, girlish face, and 
 wondering at the blindness of some men. 
 
 " Well, if God put the love into their hearts, I sup- 
 pose he knows best," said Nina simply. " The question 
 is, of course, whether it is real love or only a make- 
 believe ; and perhaps this further separation has come 
 to help them to find out. But I forget, Mr. Lane ; you 
 are one of the believers in the celibacy of the clergy." 
 
 He did not reply. 
 
 " Susie Prond that's a friend of mine and I talk 
 a great deal about these things," continued Nina. 
 " She's a good deal older and wiser than I am better 
 too, of course." 
 
 " No, no," said Bennet Lane. 
 
 She gave him a sharp, quick glance. " Do you know 
 her ? " 
 
 " Not at all," he hastened to reply. " She may be 
 Solomon and St. Paul combined ; but "Well, never
 
 "THE ELEMENTS SHALL MELT." 293 
 
 mind ; I have left my message for your father, and had 
 better go home. Only, Miss Nina, of course I can't 
 deny it has all been preached or printed in short, I 
 have made a thorough fool of myself on the celibate- 
 clergy question. I wish you'd forget it all, and that I 
 could" 
 
 " Then you have changed your mind ? " she cried 
 in amazement. 
 
 " I have changed I mean, I see that I was wrong ; 
 but perhaps it is rather a change of heart" said Bennet 
 Lane. 
 
 Nina laughed aloud ; she " really could not help it," 
 she explained to herself afterward. He joined in her 
 merriment, though a little ruefully, and departed with a 
 very formal pressure of her hand. 
 
 Left alone, the girl laughed again unrestrainedly. 
 " "Well, what would Susie say to that ? " she said. " How 
 red he grew ! And his hand was like ice." 
 
 She laughed again, but more quietly, blushing at the 
 same time so charmingly that it was really a pity Ben- 
 net had not been there to see. 
 
 " I guess," said Nina, with her head to one side and 
 her finger to her lips, " I guess I won't tell Susie about 
 it just yet."
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 "THE SEERESS." 
 
 "SHE will be sorry that yon do not come our 
 Meta," said Felix Gold tenderly. 
 
 Cyril turned away his face and looked silently out of 
 the car-window. They had nearly reached the junction 
 where their roads parted, and where, while he kept on 
 toward his brother's home, his friend would change cars 
 for Z . 
 
 " Are you sure, Felix, that she will know whether to 
 be sorry or glad ? " he said after a pause. 
 
 Felix smiled. " One must not look too closely into 
 the heart of a young maid," he said, " but yes, Cyril, 
 I think she will know." 
 
 It was late when Felix reached the sea-side cottage ; 
 and both Sophie and Meta had retired, in obedience to 
 his stringent commands. 
 
 He let himself in, and went softly up to his room, 
 pausing a moment outside Meta's door, where within all 
 was darkness and silence. " Be with her, Father, 
 whether she wake or sleep," he said voicelessly ; " sup-
 
 "THE SEERESS." 295 
 
 ply to her all loss, and draw her to thyself by every dis- 
 appointment." 
 
 There was a soft stir within the room, as though even 
 his thought had roused her, but Meta was not awake ; 
 she had only drawn the pillow closer under her cheek, 
 and lapsed into deeper slumbers, with a smile of happi- 
 ness upon her lips. A tender peace had come into her 
 heart that night, she could not tell whence or how ; only 
 it seemed as though Cyril's presence drew nearer and 
 nearer, and brought healing with it to her tossed and 
 troubled being. How she had longed for him ! How 
 she had fretted, and ached with a positive physical pain, 
 because at that moment when he had held her hands in 
 his and called her " Meta " she had given him neither 
 look nor sign ! It would have been easy oh, easy 
 enough to be impossible. But why should it have been 
 impossible ? Meta did not know. 
 
 It was not for his sake that she longed to have given 
 him that one look, that little word ; for, as she some- 
 times said bitterly, he seemed to be doing very well 
 without it. Felix brought, or wrote, constant news of 
 him ; and returning health, then health quite restored, 
 and excellent spirits, was the invariable report. 
 
 If she had raised her eyes to his, if she had returned 
 the pressure of his fingers ever so slightly ! One word 
 leads to another ; and a man may spend an hour or so 
 on the railway occasionally when it is his betrothed 
 wife who looks and waits.
 
 296 FEOM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 But how well lie seemed to be doing without her ! 
 After all, it was best as it was. Perhaps he did not 
 really. "Well, well, at last he was coming, and she should 
 know then ; and if he felt bound in honor by what had 
 already passed Yet, what had passed ? Nothing, less 
 than nothing. She had misunderstood him; he had 
 only felt sorry for her. 
 
 Thus was she driven about by the winds of her vary- 
 ing moods ; yet all the while like the great peace at 
 the heart of the ocean lay in her heart full faith in 
 Cyril's love. And now he was coming, and her doubts, 
 fears, tremors, were all hushed, as though One had said 
 to them, " Peace be still." 
 
 She woke in the morning, strong and glad, and 
 lay for a moment feeling his nearness ; for she never 
 doubted that he had come with Felix. Had he ever dis- 
 appointed her? Now he lay asleep under her roof, 
 within a few feet of her for the cottage was of Lilli- 
 putian proportions sleeping very deeply too, for there 
 was no sound through the thin partition. In a short 
 time oh, very soon now she should see him, and 
 then 
 
 She sprang up and moved noiselessly about the 
 room, trembling, growing red at every sound, lest he 
 should hear and be wakened wakened by her ! The 
 thought so overpowered her that she forgot to notice 
 that while from other rooms in the cottage came sounds 
 of rising and preparation, in his all was still as death. 
 
 She hurried down-stairs. The cottage fronted the
 
 "THE SEERESS." 297 
 
 sea, and stood back from, and slightly above, the beauti- 
 ful pebbly beach. She paused a moment at the door. 
 It was very still, this great, wide ocean ; out and out she 
 looked, until it seemed that her gaze must pierce even 
 the blue, fathomless air ; " as if I ought to see the Con- 
 tinent of Europe," she said to herself, then smiled. For 
 where she looked was no continent, no ocean ; curved 
 away by the rounding of the great globe lay all things 
 earthly, and to Meta's eyes was left alone the world 
 of heaven, the ocean of air, to whose light, clear azure 
 the watery ocean answered a deep, solemn, awful blue. 
 Awful ! yet upon its surface moved countless ripples 
 so still it was, one scarce could call them waves and 
 the laughing sun-rays danced fearlessly across it, scat- 
 tering sparkles of white fire from crest to tiny crest. 
 
 A smile as bright as the footprints of the sunbeams 
 touched the girl's lips for a moment; then the low, 
 deep roar, which for all these weeks had been her lul- 
 laby, came to her ear with sudden, terrible significance. 
 It was very still here, and very beautiful ; but without, 
 there, beyond the harbor, the surf moaned ceaselessly 
 around the relentless rocks. Why? What did it all mean? 
 Did God this God of Felix Gold, of Sophie, and of 
 Cyril this God, who seemed to her a new God, in whom 
 she supposed she believed, yet who had not yet come 
 very close to her did he give to any creature a voice, 
 save as it pleased him ? and could it please him were it 
 meaningless ? And if the meaning were there, could not 
 human ears receive it ? We, who are woven, blood and
 
 298 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 bone, of the ocean's substance, can not we hear the 
 ocean's message? 
 
 The color died out of her cheeks, but her great gray 
 eyes shone with a new and solemn light, her lips parted 
 with a smile of awe, and a quiver of delight swept over 
 her, as a ray from the sun of truth touched the ocean of 
 her own heart, which answered with an instant spark- 
 ling dimple. 
 
 She turned, carrying the sunbeam with her, and 
 went to her tiny dining-room, where she was moving 
 busily about amid her cups and saucers, when the .door 
 opened to admit Sophie Gold. 
 
 Meta smiled, and said good-morning, but she was too 
 deeply absorbed in the thought that had come to her 
 to note the sorrowful perplexity upon her friend's face. 
 
 " Felix has not yet come down ? " she asked after 
 a while. For the first time in their intercourse she 
 wished Sophie would go away ; for she was arranging 
 little clusters of pansies and sweet-peas at each plate, 
 and 
 
 " He has gone out upon the beach," said Sophie ; 
 " he will hear me when I call " 
 
 The place intended for Cyril was just where Sophie 
 stood ; there was nothing for it, therefore, but to deposit 
 her posy boldly, since all the other plates were now gar- 
 nished ; she turned away to the window for an instant 
 and touched it swiftly to her lips, then laid it down. 
 
 Sophie caught her lifted hand and held it in both
 
 "THE SEERESS." 299 
 
 hers. " Dear," she said, " how our Cyril will be glad of 
 those pansies ! " 
 
 Meta stood still and white, looking into her friend's 
 face with eyes like those of a dumb creature awaiting 
 its death-blow. But Sophie's news was news no longer 
 to Meta. 
 
 " But you will send them to him. That will he a 
 great comfort to our Cyril in his trouble, if you will 
 send him the flowers with just a kind word. For his 
 brother, his elder brother, who to him has been as a 
 father, is ill dying, perhaps. Our Cyril has gone to 
 him, but he will come when he can. Here is his note 
 to say so." 
 
 Meta had not spoken. She took the note and read it 
 calmly enough, for she seemed to herself suddenly 
 turned flesh, mind, and soul to ice. Sophie's eyes 
 were full of tears ; she would not look at her friend ; 
 but Meta was desperately careless of observation just 
 then. She stood where she was, exposed to any gaze, 
 whether of friend or servant, and read 
 
 " I had hoped, as you know, to see you this evening ; 
 and as I am told you have been good enough to prepare 
 a place for me in your cottage, I must express my grati- 
 tude and regret, or such of both as I can get on paper. 
 When I shall be able to leave my brother it is of course 
 impossible for me to say. That I shall see you when I 
 can, you know." 
 
 This was all, save the signature, and truly it was 
 very little.
 
 300 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 "If you will call Felix, Sophie, we will have our 
 breakfast," she said. 
 
 She went through the meal with the same dull pro- 
 priety of demeanor, speaking, smiling, and eating just 
 what and when she ought. As they left the table, 
 Sophie took up the pansies from Cyril's unused place. 
 " You will send these, dear ? " she said. 
 
 " You may, or Felix," she said. 
 
 " And no kind word to go with it ? " 
 
 "Do not urge her, Sophie ; let her do as she will," 
 said Felix gently. 
 
 " I am anxious always to be courteous ; that requires 
 no urging, I should hope. Tell Mr. Deane that I regret 
 to hear of his trouble, and shall be glad to have him visit 
 us whenever he is at liberty to do so." 
 
 She passed from the room coldly and calmly. 
 
 " Yes, it has all been a mistake," she thought. If 
 he had cared for her, would he have passed so near with- 
 out stopping, if only for a moment ? Brother ? It would 
 but have been the delay of a few hours had he stayed 
 all night at the cottage; and he could then have 
 reached his brother's home sooner than he was expected. 
 For at the very last moment, as he stood with his hand 
 upon the knob of his study door, the telegram had 
 arrived ; otherwise he could certainly not have caught 
 the afternoon train, and there was no other till mid- 
 night. Well, then, did not those extra hours belong to 
 her, to Meta ? But he had sent her only a few cold lines, 
 merely what courtesy required. He did not care for her.
 
 "THE SEERESS." 301 
 
 " Shall you like to go for our row this afternoon, dear 
 Meta?" 
 
 They had planned for it days before, hoping for an- 
 other oarsman ; but Meta answered composedly enough 
 that she was quite ready. Why should his presence or 
 absence be aught to her ? 
 
 But the brightness was gone from sky and sea, not 
 merely to Meta, but in reality ; a dull, leaden gray was 
 over all ; the roar of the surf was deep and threatening, 
 and the little boat was tossed like a feather upon great 
 foam-crested waves. 
 
 " We must not go far out," said Felix Gold ; " but 
 the storm gathers slowly, and it is glorious to feel the 
 swell of the waves beneath us. The tide is coming in, 
 also, and we can therefore return quickly when we will," 
 
 Meta sat where they had placed her, silent and 
 motionless. Storm or sunshine, safety or shipwreck, 
 life or death, what did it matter ? 
 
 " There," said Felix, pointing to a tiny yacht, which, 
 bowing and curtesying until her white sail well-nigh 
 touched the gray waters, was dancing merrily toward her 
 anchorage in the harbor. " See there, dear Meta ; that 
 little boat has the wind against her, yet she moves even 
 by means of it, by shifting her sail and tacking, now 
 hither now thither, but always nearer home. Were it 
 wise of the pilot to steer straight for the shore ? No ; 
 he gains by yielding, he advances by changing his 
 course ; he will be safe when the storm comes." 
 
 Meta glanced listlessly at the yacht, then back to the
 
 302 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 face of the speaker, whose eyes were upon her, while he 
 leaned forward over his crossed oars. 
 
 " Suppose the boat what she seems, a living, sentient 
 thing," said Felix Gold, " her sail an organism, grow- 
 ing stiff and finally, atrophied from disuse, her rudder 
 a human will : then, might one not know how the 
 contrary winds were sent to turn her from her straight 
 course, to teach her flexibility and obedience ? " 
 
 " I dare say," said Meta. 
 
 " Sister," said Felix Gold, " I must speak to you 
 plainly. It will pain you, but I must speak plainly. 
 Why are you angry with Cyril ? " 
 
 " Angry ? I am " She ceased. She could not say 
 " I am not," with those dark, brilliant, holy eyes upon 
 hers. 
 
 " Love ! " he said softly. " Is it a thing of the senses, 
 of the meeting of eyes, the clasp of hands, the being in 
 this place or that ? No, love is of the soul ; it knows 
 neither of time nor distance. It is the poor earthly body 
 only that cries out for the human presence." 
 
 " Felix ! " 
 
 " I said that I should pain you," he went on, with 
 tender pity in voice and eyes. " Meta, you know that 
 Cyril loves you ; your heart has told you so, and you 
 have heard it, too, from his own lips. Yet you are 
 angry because he comes not ; were it sorrow only, you 
 would weep." 
 
 " Felix, you are wrong ! He has not he has told me 
 nothing."
 
 "THE SEERESS." 303 
 
 " Is Cyril Deane like other men, that you should say 
 so ? " he asked. " With them, indeed, a maiden does 
 well to doubt and hesitate, to be on her guard until the 
 word is said, ' Will you marry me ? ' But Cyril ? Tell 
 me no, not me, but answer to yourself is there no 
 word or look of his whereof you can say, ' This, were it 
 given to a maiden whom he loved not, wronged both her 
 and the one whom he shall some day call wife ? When 
 you have answered that question, sister, you will know 
 whether Cyril Deane loves you." 
 
 Meta had covered her face with her hands. 
 
 " So, then," proceeded the deep voice whose owner 
 she could not see, " so, then, if he love you, is he not 
 already present with you ? Are not his thoughts always 
 about you ? Is not his heart yours ? Is not this the 
 real presence of love ? And why are we blind and dead 
 thereto, but that the bodily presence is craved, cried out 
 for, by the body, yielded to by the body, until the eyes 
 of the soul are covered by the burden of flesh ! " 
 
 " But, Felix" 
 
 "Ay, my wife, I know. God requires not of us 
 more than we are able for. ' He setteth the solitary 
 in families,' yet not every marriage is according to his 
 will. Moreover, it is upon the plane of our development 
 that we must act neither above nor below it. By this 
 rule shall we judge ourselves : if the earthly presence 
 conflict with another duty, it is of the flesh must be 
 trampled under foot ; otherwise, it is a means toward 
 the perfecting of spiritual love, and we may be happy
 
 304: FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 therein," lie added, with a glance over his shoulder at 
 Sophie, who sat behind him in the bow. " And if we 
 are faithful in this," he went on musingly, " it may 
 be that in another century lovers will speak heart to 
 heart and mind to mind, though an ocean roll between 
 them." 
 
 A great surging wave lifted the boat upon its crest, 
 carried it on, sank, rose again, and threatened to over- 
 whelm them. 
 
 " We have stayed too long," said Felix Gold ; 
 but Meta raised her face and smiled upon him with a 
 white radiance upon it, such as had never shone there 
 before. " Not too long," she said ; " not too long." 
 
 He was bending to his oars and did not answer, but 
 he thought of Paul, the apostle, to whom it was shown 
 that God had given him all them that were with him in 
 the ship. 
 
 " Has the seeress found her true inspiration ? " he 
 thought. 
 
 They stood for a moment clinging together after 
 they had reached land, listening to the roar of the surf 
 and watching the waves as they rolled in higher and 
 higher, the crests of their cave-like hollows white with a 
 fringe of foam. 
 
 " Why do we not rule the sea and the storm, as our 
 Lord did ? " asked Meta. 
 
 Felix turned and looked down into her eyes. " So ! " 
 he said. 
 
 " We have chained the lightning," she went on, half 
 
 \
 
 "THE SEERESS." 305 
 
 under her breath, and yet as though she must speak ; 
 " and, as you showed me just now, we have our will, in 
 a measure, even of the very winds. But the sea it is 
 rebellious, the home of the storms. It lets us live by 
 it, upon it, along its shores, use it in various ways, yet 
 all the while is singing its one song in that great won- 
 derful ocean-voice a song which every one hears and 
 no one can interpret." 
 
 " No one ? " he said in his kind voice. 
 
 " Is it like this ? " she said. " It will not go into 
 verse, which is perhaps a sign that I do not fully under- 
 stand it : 
 
 " ' I am old, saith the ocean, and ye men are young ; 
 
 I am wiser than ye ; 
 
 Yet ye will not heed the lesson I am set to teach. 
 
 Why spend your labor for naught f 
 
 Ye carve my bosom with boats, 
 
 Ye make to you oars, sails, paddles, implements of every sort, 
 
 Whereby to work the passage I would freely give. 
 
 Then mine anger ariseth, and I dash them in pieces in my wrath. 
 
 Behold, I may not be fettered by the power of the brain ! 
 
 Take, therefore, the kingdom prepared from the beginning for you. 
 
 Ye that rule earth, be also lords of sea and storm ; 
 
 Walk fearlessly upon my waves ; behold, they are slaves of the 
 
 free will ! 
 
 Command the storm clouds, and they will obey you. 
 But rule no longer through vain devices of man : 
 Nay, for thereunto I will never yield. 
 Behold, I am set as a witness against it ; 
 Rule by the eternal might of life unto life ! ' " 
 
 20
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 SUNRISE. 
 
 IT was three weeks later that Meta again awoke 
 with a sense of the nearness of him she loved. This 
 time it did not deceive her. Had it, then, deceived her 
 that other time ? The girl thought not ; his thoughts, 
 his prayers, his yielding of himself to the will of the 
 Lord, all these had been hers, and had brought her 
 into so close a union with his spirit that the bodily pres- 
 ence faded out of reality beside it. 
 
 And yet the bodily presence had been very dear. 
 He had taken her hand, he had looked into her eyes ; 
 he had said, " It is pleasant to have you so well and 
 strong," and she had looked fearlessly back and an- 
 swered, "It is because I am happy; I have found 
 peace." 
 
 They had sat together, they four, all the evening, 
 and talked of many thing of signs, and the interpreta- 
 tion thereof ; of the voice of the sea, once more, and 
 such like ; and Meta, once and again, had felt upon 
 her lips the sting as of a coal of fire from the altar 
 of God, and her fair face had shone white in its glow. 
 Then she had spoken as it was given her to speak,
 
 SUNRISE. 307 
 
 and Cyril had listened with a joy too strong for 
 words, too deep for tears. This was indeed his Meta, 
 the soul he had freed out of prison (he said it with a 
 glad humility ; he was not ashamed or afraid to say it) 
 Christ's free-woman, able to give herself, to be truly 
 his, because she was her own ; and only her own because 
 she was Christ's. 
 
 Then they spoke of earthly things. Cyril's brother 
 had but lived to hear his promise that the widow and 
 her three boys should be to him as his own, then he had 
 passed peacefully away. 
 
 " Thank you again for your kind letter," he said 
 gravely to Meta. " I was sorry not to answer it sooner 
 and more fully, but my hands were full, and I knew 
 that I should see you soon." 
 
 " I understood," she said. 
 
 The widow and children were left almost unpro- 
 vided for, which Cyril admitted might possibly delay or 
 alter his plans of missionary life. " But I hope it may 
 be possible so to arrange that the delay may be a brief 
 one. I should like to sail before the winter," he said. 
 
 " Then they do not need your actual guardianship ? " 
 asked Felix. 
 
 " My sister has two brothers excellent fellows in 
 the same town, who would be in any case their coun- 
 selors," he said. " And if I remain in this country I 
 shall most likely locate elsewhere I must, you know ; 
 so that, if they were reasonably well off as regards 
 money matters
 
 308 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 Meta looked up and smiled as she met his eyes. 
 Yes, he was counting upon her wealth, and why not ? 
 It was only that as she trusted him, so he trusted 
 her. 
 
 They said good-night quietly and as other friends. 
 He was in no haste to claim her, nor she to be claimed ; 
 were they not already each the other's ? 
 
 For hours the girl lay awake, too happy to sleep ; 
 then she scolded herself, and willed herself into slumber 
 that she might be fresh and strong for the next day. 
 Now the morning had come, and such a flood of golden 
 light poured into the room that she sprang up and 
 hurried to the open window. All the east was glorious 
 as with the glory of a great golden topaz ; a quiver shot 
 over her frame ; it seemed to call her like a voice. 
 
 Hastily dressing herself and binding round her 
 head the braids of her brown hair, she wrapped a 
 great white shawl about her, and stole noiselessly from 
 the house, down toward a huge castellated bowlder that 
 lay upon the beach, and clambered deftly, swiftly, up 
 its rugged sides. 
 
 It had not seemed long, yet the topaz light was 
 gone " and why not, having called me ? " said Meta. 
 All the sky was an exquisite, tender blue, flecked with 
 dainty clouds of feathery white. As blue as the sky 
 was the solemn waiting sea ; waiting for what ? Ah, 
 the sky knew ! 
 
 Over in the east it was all a beautiful glowing rose- 
 color, which at one point grew and deepened, deepened ;
 
 SUNRISE. 309 
 
 it was just the shape and size of the disk of what ? The 
 sky will not let me tell. It was a beautiful secret which 
 the sea knew, and the sky had just discovered, and was 
 blushing about this wonderful thing that was just 
 about to happen. For every feathery cloud had caught 
 the rosy glow, and even the blue between shone as 
 through a mist of rose-color, when there came the sound 
 of a climber up the rugged steep, and the beating of 
 Meta's heart revealed his name. 
 
 She did not turn ; but as he came to her side, she 
 held up her hand with a gesture for silence. 
 
 Deeper and deeper grew the glowing glory; the 
 throne was ready for the king. Then 
 
 A low cry broke from the girl's lips. 
 
 It was only a point of living flame, but it was a globe, 
 a world, the parent, sustainer, and enlightener of ours. 
 They could feel both the roundness and the life of it. 
 Higher and higher it rose, slowly, majestically, until the 
 glory of it passed beyond the vision of earthly eyes, and 
 there poured from its throne a pure river of the water of 
 life, which, nearing their feet, became as the street of the 
 city, pure gold, as it were transparent glass, the way of 
 life, which they should tread at last together, the home 
 prepared for them eternal in the heavens. 
 
 Did the hope rise sun-like in his mind and in hers 
 together ? Or in only one, and thence shine into the 
 other, by means of that communion and fellowship 
 which God hath prepared for them that love him?
 
 310 FROM DUSK TO DAWN. 
 
 " 1 know not. Who knoweth ? Our own souls we scarcely do 
 
 know, 
 
 And none knows his brother's. The dark cloud that veils 
 All life, lets this rift through to glorify future and past : 
 Love ever, love only, love faithfully, love to the last ! " 
 
 To the last ! Through pain and toil, sorrow and suf- 
 fering, death and the grave, resurrection and everlasting 
 life. 
 
 With the awful grandeur of such a vow upon their 
 souls, they turned and looked, each into the eyes of the 
 other. 
 
 Then he stooped and kissed her. 
 
 And the glory of the sunrise, the glory of God, was 
 in their hearts and shone upon their faces. 
 
 THE END.
 
 D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 T 
 
 FAITH DOCTOR. By EDWARD EGGLESTON, 
 
 author of "The Hoosier Schoolmaster," "The Circuit Rider," 
 etc. I2mo. Cloth, $1.50. 
 
 " One of the novels of the decade." Rochester Union and Advertiser. 
 
 " It is extremely fortunate that the fine subject indicated in the title should have 
 fallen into such competent hands." Pittsburgh Chronicle-'l elegraph. 
 
 "The author of 'The Hoosier Schoolmaster' has enhanced his reputation by this 
 beautiful and touching study of the character of a girl to love whom proved a liberal 
 education to both of her admirers." London Athenaum. 
 
 " ' The Faith Doctor ' is worth reading for its style, its wit, and its humor, and not 
 less, we may add, for its pathos." London Spectator. 
 
 " Much skill is shown by the author in making these 'fads' the basis of a novel of 
 great interest. . . . One who tries to keep in the current of good novel reading must 
 certainly find time to read 'The Faith Doctor.' " Buffalo Commercial. 
 
 A 
 
 N UTTER FAIL URE. By MIRIAM COLES HAR- 
 RIS, author of" Rutledge." I2mo. Cloth, $1.25. 
 
 " A story with an elaborate plot, worked out with great cleverness and with the 
 skill of an experienced artist in fiction. The interest is strong and at times very dra- 
 matic. . . . Those who were attracted by ' Rutledge ' will give hearty welcome to this 
 story, and find it fully as enjoyable as that once immensely popular novel." Boston 
 Saturday Rvening Gazette. 
 
 " In this new story the author has done some of the best work that she has ever 
 given to the public, and it will easily class among the most meritorious and most 
 original novels of the year." Boston Home Journal. 
 
 "The author of ' Rutledge ' does not often send out a new volume, but when she 
 does it is always a literary event. . . . Her previous books were sketchy and slight 
 when compared with the finished and trained power evidenced in 'An Utter Failure.'" 
 .New Ha-: en Palladium. 
 
 PURITAN PAGAN. By JULIEN GORDON, au- 
 thor of "A Diplomat's Diary," etc. I2mo. Cloth, $1.00. 
 
 " Mrs. Van Rensselaer Cruger grows stronger as she writes. . . . The lines in her 
 story are boldly and vigorously etched." New York Times. 
 
 " The author's recent books have made for her a secure place in current literature, 
 where she can stand fast. . . . Her latest production, ' A Puritan Pagan,' is an eminent- 
 ly clever story, in the best sense of the word clever." Philadelphia Telegraph. 
 
 " It is obvious that the author is thoroughly at home in illustrating the manner and 
 the sentiment of the best society of both America and Europe." Chicago Times. 
 
 A 
 
 VERE. By Louis COUPERUS. Translated 
 from the Dutch by J. T. GREIN. With an Introduction by 
 EDMUND GOSSE. Holland Fiction Series. I2mo. Cloth, $1.00. 
 
 " Most careful in its details of description, most picturesque in its coloring." Boston 
 Post. 
 
 " A vivacious and skillful performance, giving an evidently faithful picture of society, 
 and evincing the art of a true story-teller." Philadelphia Telegraph. 
 
 "The dtnoument is tragical, thrilling, and picturesque." New York World. 
 
 New York : D. APPLETON & CO., I, 3. & 5 Bond Street.
 
 D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 LAST WORDS OF THOMAS CARL YLE. 
 
 J- Including Wotton Reinfred, Carlyle's only essay in fiction ; the 
 Excursion {Futile Enough) to Paris ; and letters from Thomas 
 Carlyle, also letters from Mrs. Carlyle, to a personal friend. 
 With Portrait. I2mo. Cloth, gilt top, $1.75. 
 
 "The interest of ' Wptton Reinfred' to me is considerable, from the ske'ches 
 which it contains of particular men and women, most of whom I knew and could, if 
 necessary, identify. The story, too, is taken generally from real life, and perhaps 
 Carlyle did not finish it, from the sense that it could not be published while the per- 
 sons and things could be recognized That objection to the publication no longer ex- 
 ists. Everybody is dead whose likenesses have been drawn, and the incidents stated 
 have long been forgotten." JAMES ANTHONY FROUDE. 
 
 " ' Wotton Reinfred ' is interesting as a historical document. It gives Car'yle be- 
 fore he had adopted his peculiar manner, and yet there are some characteristic bits 
 especially at the beginning in the Sartor Resartus vein. I take it that these are 
 reminiscences of Irving and of the Thackeray circle, and there is a curious portrait of 
 Coleridge, not very thinly veiled. There is enough autobiography, too, of interest in 
 its way." LESLIE STEPHEN. 
 
 " As a study of Carlyle these pages are of very great value ; they were written 
 before he had acquired that peculiar individual literary style which we now know as 
 Carlylese; although here and there one may distinguish some of the odd and inflated 
 terms in which, in later years, so much of his work was expressed. The romance 
 abounds in passages of great beauty." Newark Daily Advertiser. 
 
 "No complete edition of the Sage of Chelsea will be able to ignore these manu- 
 scripts." Pall Mall Gazette, 
 
 M 
 
 EN, MINES, AND ANIMALS IN SOUTH 
 AFRICA. By Lord RANDOLPH S. CHURCHILL. With 
 Portrait, Sixty-five Illustrations, and a Map. 8vo. 337 pages- 
 Cloth, $5.00. 
 
 " The subject-matter of the book is of unsurpassed interest to all who either travel 
 in new countries, to see for themselves the new civilizations, 01 follow closely the 
 experiences of such travelers And Lord Randolph's eccentricities are by no means 
 such as to make his own reports of what he saw in the new states of South Africa any 
 the less interesting than his active eyes and his vigorous pen naturally make them." 
 Brooklyn Eagle. 
 
 " Lord Randolph Churchill's pages are full of diversified adventures and expe- 
 rience, from any part of which interesting extracts could be collected. ... A 
 thoroughly attractive book." London Telegraph. 
 
 " Provided with amusing illustrations, which always fall short of caricature, but 
 perpetually suggest mirthful entertainment." Philadelphia Ledger. 
 
 " The book is the better for having been written somewhat in the line of journalism. 
 It is a volume of travel containing the results of a journalist's trained observation and 
 intelligent reflection upon political affairs. Such a work is a great improvement upon 
 the ordinary book of travel. . . . Lord Randolph Churchill thoroughly enjoyed his 
 experiences in the African bush, and has produced a record of his journey and explora- 
 tion which has hardly a dull page in it." New York Tribune. 
 
 " Any one who wishes to have a realizing sense of actual conditions in the southern 
 part of the Dark Continent should not fail to avail himself of Lord Randolph's keen, 
 incisive, good-humored observations." Boston Beacon. 
 
 New York : D. APPLETON & CO., i, 3, & 5 Bond Street.
 
 D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 (^TRAIGHT ON. A story of a boy's school-life in 
 
 **J France. By the author of "The Story of Colette." \\iih 
 
 86 Illustrations by Edouard Zier. 320 pages. 8vo. Cloth, 
 $1.50. 
 
 " It is long since we have encountered a story for children which we can recom. 
 mend more cordially. It is good all through and in every respect." Charleston 
 News and Courier. 
 
 " A healthful tale of a French school-boy who suffers the usual school-boy persecu- 
 tion, and emerges from his troubles a hero. The illustrations are bright and well 
 drawn, and the translation is excellently done." Boston Commercial Bulletin. 
 
 " A real story-book of the sort which is difficult to lay down, having once begun it. 
 It is fully illustrated and handsomely bound." Buffalo Courier. 
 
 " The story is one of exceptional merit, and its delightful interest never flags." 
 Chicago Herald. 
 
 T 
 
 ILLUSTRATED EDITION OF "COLETTE." 
 
 HE STORY OF COLETTE, a new, large-paper 
 edition. With 36 Illustrations. 8vo. Cloth, $1.50. 
 
 The great popularity which this book has attained in its smaller form has 
 led the publishers to issue an illustrated edition, with thirty-six original 
 drawings by Jean Claude, both vignette and full-page. 
 
 "This is a capital translation of a charming novel. It is bright, witty, fresh, and 
 humorous. ' The Story of Colette ' is a fine example of what a French novel can be, 
 and all should be." Charleston News and Courier. 
 
 " Colette is French and the story is French, and both are exceedingly pretty. The 
 story is as pure and refreshingas the innocent yet sighing gayety of Colette's life." 
 ProviJence Journal. 
 
 "A charming little story, molded on the simplest lines, thoroughly pure, and ad- 
 mirably constructed. It is told with a wonderful lightness and racmess. It is full of 
 little skillful touches, such as French literary art at its best knows so well how to pro- 
 duce. It is characterized by a knowledge of human nature and a mastery of style and 
 method which indicate that it is the work rather of a master than of a novice. . . . Who- 
 ever the author of 'Colette ' may be, there can be no question that it is one of the pret- 
 tiest, most artistic, and in every way charming stories that French fiction has been 
 honored with for a long time." New York Tribune. 
 
 H 
 
 ERMINE'S TRIUMPHS. A Story for Girls and 
 Boys. By MADAME COLOMB. With 100 Illustrations. 8vo. 
 Cloth. 
 
 The popularity of this charming story of French home life, which has 
 passed through many editions in Paris, has been earned by the sustained in- 
 terest of the narrative, the sympathetic presentation of character, and the 
 wholesomeness of the lessons which are suggested. One of the most de- 
 lightful books for girls published in recent years. It is bound uniformly 
 with "Straight On." 
 
 New York : D. APPLETON & CO., i, 3. & 5 Bond Street.
 
 D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 A N ENGLISHMAN IN PA RIS. Notes and Recol- 
 *-* lections. In Two Volumes, ismo. Cloth, $4.50. 
 
 This work gives an intimate and most entertaining series of pictures of 
 life in Paris during the reigns of Louis Philippe and Louis Napoleon. It 
 contains personal reminiscences of the old Latin Quarter, the Revolution of 
 1848, the coup d^tat, society, art, and letters during the Second Empire, the 
 siege of Paris, and the reign of the Commune. The author enjoyed the 
 acquaintance of most of the celebrities of this time ; and he describes Balzac, 
 Alfred de Mussel, Sue, the elder Dumas, Taglioni, Flaubert, Auber, Felicien 
 David, Delacroix, Horace Vernet, Decamps, Guizot, Thiers, and many 
 others, whose appearance in these pages is the occasion for fresh and inter- 
 esting anecdotes. This work may well be described as a volume of inner 
 history written from an exceptionally favorable point of view. 
 
 "... All questions of casuistry aside, the taste of civilized men for personal details 
 about each other is unquestionable. . . . For this reason alone, independently of its 
 literary merits, ' An Englishman in Paris ' will be read all the world over with intense 
 interest. . . . With this opportunity for knowing men, women, and affairs, shrewd 
 insight, an analytical turn, an entire self-command, supplemented by an easy, fluent, 
 unpretentious style of telling things, it is not to be wondered at that the work is one of 
 the most interesting which has come from the press in a long time." Chicago Times. 
 
 " The author of these reminiscences, near the close of the second volume, says that 
 for private reasons, which he can not and must not mention, he has decided not to 
 make known his name. He is aware that in choosing this course he will diminish the 
 value of his work, because he is 'sufficiently well known to inspire the reader with con- 
 fidence.' Editor and publisher alike have respected this decision, and the book appears 
 without the author's name on the title-page. English papers, which have uniformly 
 borne testimony to the rare interest of the work, have, however, disclosed the author's 
 name. They say it is Sir Richard Wallace. ... A man of mark bir Richard was in 
 many other ways. No one ever shared the friendship of great and distinguished men 
 and women after his fashion without possessing talents and charm quite out of the com- 
 mon order. The reader of these volumes will not marvel more at the unfailing interest 
 of each page than at the extraordinary collection of eminent persons whom the author 
 all his life knew intimately and met frequently. A list would range from Dumas the 
 elder to David the sculptor, from Rachel to Balzac, from Louis Napoleon to Eugene 
 Delacroix, from Louis Philippe to the Princess Demidoff, and from Lo!a Montez to 
 that other celebrated woman, Alphonsine Plessis, who was the original of the younger 
 Dumas's ' Dame aux Cam611ias.' He knew these persons as no other Englishman 
 could have known them, and he writes about them with a charm that has all the at- 
 traction of the most pleasing conversation. The reminiscences weie written only a 
 few years before his death. . . ." Ne-w York Times. 
 
 " We have rarely happened upon more fascinating volumes than these Recollec- 
 tions. . . . One good story leads on to another; one personality brings up reminiscences 
 of another, and we are hurried along in a rattle of gayety. . . . We have heard many 
 suggestions Hzarded as to the anonymous author of these memoirs. There are not 
 above three or four Englishmen with whom it would be possible to identify him. We 
 doubted still until after the middle of the second volume we came upon two or three 
 passages which strike us as being conclusive circumstantial evidence. . . . We shall 
 not seek to strip the mask from the anonymous." London 'limes. 
 
 New York : D. APPLETON & CO., i, 3, & 5 Bond Street.
 
 D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 LIFE OF AN ARTIST. An Autobiography, 
 by JULES BRETON. Translated by MARY J. SERRANO. Edi- 
 tion de Luxe, with Portrait, Twenty Plates, and fac-simile of 
 Autograph Poem. Gilt top, uncut edges, vellum cover, stamped 
 in gold with specially prepared design. Royal 8vo. $10.00. 
 
 When Jules Breton's charming autobiography "The Life of an Artist" 
 was first published, the New York Tribune said, "The success of this book 
 is assured from the first." This prediction was amply justified. There were 
 many, however, who felt that there was one omission, due to the modesty of 
 the artist-author, which might well be supplied, and it was suggested that 
 there should be an illustrated edition of the book containing reproductions of 
 the artist's work. The publishers have now met this want in an edition de 
 luxe, containing twenty full-page reproductions of Jules Breton's most distin- 
 guished paintings, a new portrait of the author, and a fac-simile of a manu- 
 script poem accompanied by a sketch. Among the paintings which have been 
 reproduced are "The First Communion," " Evening at 1 inistere," " A Par- 
 don, Brittany," " Ca' ling the Gleaners," " The Colza-Gatherers," "The Last 
 Ray," "Going to the Fields," and "St. John's Eve." 
 
 In addition to the pictures which are in the galleries of American amateurs, 
 the publishers have reproduced examples of the artist's work which are in 
 France and England. No such collection of Jules Breton's work in art has 
 been formed within our knowledge, and we do not recall any publication 
 which offers so beautiful a series of pictures of rural life in France. 
 
 " The whole work is written so frankly and with such simplicity of style that the 
 reader is charmed. He seems rather to be listening to Breton's voice telling the story 
 of his life than reading it as written by his pen." Chicago Times. 
 
 " One understands modern France the better for this autobiography of her highly 
 gifted son." Boston Pilot. 
 
 "This autobiography is a highly individual performance. . . . The history of the 
 movement of French art since 1848 is also incorporated into this poetic narrative. The 
 descriptions of Nature are beautiful." Philadelphia Ledger. 
 
 SIDELINE'S ART DICTIONARY. Containing 
 ** a Complete Index of all Terms used in Art, Architecture, 
 Heraldry, and Archaeology. Translated from the French and 
 enlarged, with nearly 2,000 Illustrations. 8vo. Cloth, $2.25. 
 
 " Nothing could be more comprehensive in its way." New York Sun. 
 
 "General utility is its leading characteristic. . . . The book is well printed and 
 handsomely bound." Philadelphia Ledger. 
 
 " ' Adeline's Art Dictionary ' might be called a condensed encyclopedia of all terms 
 used in art, architecture, heraldry, and archaeology. . . . Definitions are given of all 
 terms, both ancient and modern, used to express the various forms and different parts 
 of architecture, heraldry, and sculpture. One finds descriptions of ornamental woods, 
 precious stones, glass, pottery, armors, and military costumes. Everything which 
 forms the component part of a picture is given, or what may be included in its descrip- 
 tion, as saints and their symbols, also analysis of colors, and artistic implements. 
 Mention is made of various schools of art and public galleries, etc. _As a hand-book 
 for students or any one seeking knowledge on the subjects contained, it can not fail to 
 be of great use, and is a good addition to any library." Chicago Times. 
 
 New York : D. APPLETON & CO., i, 3, & 5 Bond Street.
 
 D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 Brer Rabbit divulges his plans. (From " Uncle RIIHUS.") 
 
 T JNCLE REMUS: his Songs and his Sayings. The 
 V^ Folk-lore of the Old Plantation. By JOEL CHANDLER HAR- 
 RIS. Illustrated from Drawings by F. S. CHURCH and J. H. 
 MOSER, of Georgia. I2mo. Cloth, $1.50. 
 
 " The idea of preserving and publishing these legends in the form in which the old 
 plantation negroes actually tell them, is altogether one of the happiest literary con- 
 ceptions of the day. And very admirably is the work done. . . . In such touches lies 
 the charm of this fascinating little volume of legends, which deserves to be placed on a 
 level with Reincke Fuchs for its quaint humor, without reference to the ethnological 
 interest possessed by these stories, as indicating, perhaps, a common origin for very 
 widely severed races." London Spectator. 
 
 " We are just discovering what admirable literary material there is at home, what 
 a great mine there is to explore, and how quaint and peculiar is the material which 
 can be dug up. Mr. Harris's book may be looked on in a double light either as a 
 pleasant volume recounting the stories told by a typical old colored man to a child, 
 or as a valuable contribution to our somewhat meager folk-lore. . . . To Northern 
 readers the story of Brer (Brother Brudder) Rabbit may be novel. To those familiar 
 with plantation life, who have listened to these quaint old stories, who have still tender 
 reminiscences of some good old mauma who told these wondrous adventures to them 
 when they were children, Brer Rabbit, the Tar Baby, and Brer Fox come back again 
 with all the past pleasures of younger days." New York Times. 
 
 " Uncle Remus's sayings on current happenings are very shrewd and bright, and 
 the plantation and revival songs are choice specimens of their sort." Boston Journal. 
 
 " The volume is a most readable one, whether it be regarded as a humorous book 
 merely, or as a contribution to the literature of folk-lore." New York World. 
 
 "This is a thoroughly amusing book, and is much the best humorous compilation 
 that has been put before the American public for many a day." Philadelphia Tele- 
 graph. 
 
 New York ; D. APPLETON & CO., I, 3, & 5 Bond Street.
 
 D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 BRER RABBIT PREACHES. 
 
 N THE PLANT A TION. 
 By JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS, au- 
 thor of " Uncle Remus." With 
 23 Illustrations by E. W. KEM- 
 BLE, and Portrait of the Author. 
 I2mo. Cloth, $1.50. 
 The most personal and in some re- 
 spects the most important work which 
 Mr. Harris has published since "Uncle 
 Remus." Many will read between the 
 lines and see the autobiography of the 
 author. In addition to the stirring inci- 
 dents which appear in the story, the au- 
 thor presents a graphic picture of certain 
 phases of Southern life which have not 
 appeared in his books before. There are also new examples of the folk-lore 
 of the negroes, which became classic when presented to the public in the 
 pages of " Uncle Remus.'' 
 
 "The book is in the characteristic vein which has made the author so famous and 
 popular as an interpreter of plantation character." Rochester Union and Advertiser. 
 
 "Those who never tire of Uncle Remus and his stories with whom we would be 
 accounted will delight in Joe Maxwell and his exploits." London Saturday Review. 
 
 " Altogether a most charming book.' Chicago Times. 
 
 " Really a valuable, if modest, contribution to the history of the civil war within the 
 Confederate lines, particularly on the eve of the catastrophe. While Mr. Harris, in his 
 preface, professes to have lost the power to distinguish between what is true and what 
 is imaginative in his episodical narrative, the reader readily finds the clew. Two or 
 three new animal fables are introduced with effect ; but the history of the plantation, the 
 printing-office, the black runaways, and white deserters, of whom the impending break- 
 up made the community tolerant, the coon and fox hunting, forms the serious purpose 
 of the book, and holds the reader's interest from beginning to end. Like 'Daddy Jake,' 
 this is a good anti-slavery tract in disguise, and does credit to Mr. Harris's humanity. 
 There are amusing illustrations by E. W. Kemble." New York Evening Post. 
 
 "A charming little book, tastefully gotten up. . . . Its simplicity, humor, and indi- 
 viduality would be very welcome to any one who was weary of the pretentiousness and 
 the dull obviousness of the average fhree-vclume novel." London Chronicle. 
 
 "The mirage of war vanishes and reappears like an ominous shadow on the horizon, 
 but the stay-at-home whites of the Southern Confederacy were likewise threatened by 
 fears of a servile insurrection. This dark dread exerts its influence on a narration which 
 is otherwise cheery with boyhood's fortunate freedom from anxiety, and sublime disre- 
 gard for what the morrow may bring forth. The simple chronicle of old times 'on the 
 plantation ' concludes all too soon : the fire burns low and the ta'e is ended just as the 
 reader becomes acclimated to the mid-Georgian village, and feels thoroughly at home 
 with Joe and Mink. The 'Owl and the Birds,' 'Old Zip Coon,' the 'Big Injun and 
 the Buzzard,' are joyous echoes of the plantation-lore that first delighted us in ' Uncle 
 Remus." Kemble's illustrations, evidently studied from life, are interspersed in these 
 pages of a book of consummate charm." Philadelphia Ledger. 
 
 New York : D. APPLETON & CO., i, 3, & 5 Bond Street.
 
 APPLETONS' TOWN AND COUNTRY LIBRARY. 
 
 PUBLISHED SEMI-MONTHLY. 
 
 1. The Steel Hammer. By Louis ULBACH. 
 
 2. Eve. A Novel. By S. BARING-GOULD. 
 
 3. For Fifteen Years. A Sequel to The Steel Hammer. By Louis ULBACH. 
 
 4. A Counsel of Perfection. A Novel. By LUCAS MALET. 
 
 5. The Deemster. A Romance. By HALL CAINE. 
 
 6. A Virginia Inheritance. By EDMUND PENDLETON. 
 
 7. Ninette : An Idyll of Provence. By the author of Vera. 
 
 8. " The Right Honourable.'''' A Romance of Society and Politics. By JUSTIN 
 
 MCCARTHY and Mrs. CAMPBELL-PRAED. 
 
 9. The Silence of Dean Maitland. By MAXWELL GREY. 
 
 10. Mrs. Lorimer : A Study in Black and White. By LUCAS MALET. 
 
 11. The Elect Lady. By GEORGE MACDONALD. 
 
 12. The Mystery of the" Ocean Star." By W. CLARK RUSSELL. 
 
 13. Aristocracy. A Novel. 
 
 14. A Recoiling Vengeance. By FRANK BARRETT. With Illustrations. 
 
 15. The Secret of Fontaine-la- Croix. By MARGARET FIELD. 
 
 16. The Master of Rathkelly. By HAWLEY SMART. 
 
 17. Donovan: A Modern Englishman. By EDNA LYALL. 
 
 18. This Mortal Coil. By GRANT ALLEN. 
 
 19. A Fair Emigrant. By ROSA MULHOLLAND. 
 
 20. The Apostate. By ERNEST DAUDET. 
 
 21. Raleigh Westgate ; or, Epimenides in Maine. By HELEN K^NDHICK JOHNSON. 
 
 22. Arms the Libyan: A Romance of the Primitive Church. 
 
 23. Constance, and Calbofs Rival. By JULIAN HAWTHORNE. 
 
 24. We Two. By EDNA LYALL. 
 
 25. A Dreamer of Dreams. By the author of Thoth. 
 
 26. The Ladies'' Gallery. By JUSTIN MCCARTHY, M. P., and Mrs. TAMPBELL- 
 
 PRAED. 
 
 27. The Reproach of Annesley. By MAXWELL GREY. 
 
 28. Near to Happiness. 
 
 29. In the Wire- Grass. By Louis PENDLETON. 
 
 30. Lace. A Berlin Romance. By PAUL LINDAU. 
 
 31. American Coin. A Novel. By the author of Aristocracy. 
 82. Won by Waiting. By EDNA LYALL. 
 
 33. The Story of Helen Davenant. By VIOLET FANE. 
 
 34. The Light of Her Countenance. By H. H. BOYESEN. 
 
 35. Mistress Beatrice Cope; or, Passages in the Life of a Jacobite's THnghter. 
 
 By M. E. LE CLERC. 
 
 36. The Knight-Errant. By EDNA LYALL. 
 
 37. In the Golden Days. By EDNA LYALL. 
 
 38. Giraldl ; or, The Curse of Love. By Ross GEORGE BERING. 
 
 39. A Hardy Norseman. By EDXA LYALL. 
 
 40. The Romance of Jenny Harlowe, and Sketches of Maritime Life. By W. 
 
 CLARK RUSSELL. 
 
 41. Passion's Slave. By RICHARD ASHE-KING. 
 
 42. The Awakening of Mary Fenwick. By BEATRICE WHITBY. 
 
 43. Countess Loreley. Translated from the German of RUDOLF MENGER. 
 
 44. Blind Love. By WILKIE COLLINS. 
 
 45. The Dean's Daughter. By SOPHIE F. F. VEITCH. 
 
 46. Countess Irene. A Romance of Austrian Life. By J. FOGERTY. 
 
 47. Robert Broioning's Principal Shorter Poems. 
 
 48. Frozen Hearts. By G. WEBB APPLETON. 
 
 49. D.jambek the Georgian. By A. G. VON SUTTNER. 
 
 50. The Craze of Christian Engelhart. By HENRY FAULKNER DARNELL. 
 
 51. Lai. By WILLIAM A. HAMMOND, M.i). 
 
 52. Aline. A Novel. By HENRY GREVILLE. 
 
 53. Joost Avelingh. A Dutch Story. By MAARTEN MAARTENS. 
 
 54. Katy of Catoctin. By GEORGE ALFRED TOWNSEND. 
 
 55. Throckmorton. A Novel. By MOLLY ELLIOT SEA WELL. 
 
 56. Expatriation. By the author of Aristocracy. 
 
 57. Geoffrey Hampstead. By T. 8. JARVIS.
 
 APPLETONS' TOWN AND COUNTRY LIBRARY. ( Continued.) 
 
 58. Dmitri. A Romance of Old Russia. By F. W. BAIN, M. A. 
 
 59. Part of the Property. By BEATRICE WHIT BY. 
 
 CO. Bismarck in Private Life. By a FEI.I.OW STUDENT. 
 
 61. In Low liclii-f. By MO'RLEY KOBEKTS. 
 
 62. The Canadians of Old. A Historical Romance. By PHILIPPE GASP. 
 
 63. A Squire of Low Degree. By LILY A. LONG. 
 
 64. A Fluttered Dovecote. By GEORGE MANVILLE FENN. 
 
 65. The Nugents of Carricoitna. An Irish Story. By TIOHE HOPKINS. 
 
 66. A Sensitive Plant. By E. and D. GERARD. 
 
 67. Dona Luz. By Don JUAN VALERA. Translated by Mrs. MARY J. SERRANO. 
 68 Pepita Ximenez. By Don JUAN VALERA. Translated by Airs. MARY J. 
 
 SERRANO. 
 
 69. The Primes and their Neighbors. Tales of Middle Georgia. By RICHARD 
 
 MALCOLM JOHNSTON. 
 
 70. The Iron Game. By HENRY F. KEKNAN. 
 
 71. Stories of Old New Spain. By THOMAS A. JANVIER. 
 
 72. The Maid of Honor. By Hon. LEWIS WINGFIELD. 
 
 73. In the Heart of the Storm. By MAXWELL GRBY. 
 
 74. Consequences. By EGERTON CASTLE. 
 
 75. The Three Miss Kinqs. By ADA CAMBRIDGE. 
 
 76. A Matter of Skill. By BEATRICE WHITBY. 
 
 77. Maid Manan, and other Stories. By MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL. 
 
 78. One Woman's Way. By EDMUND PENDLETON. 
 
 79. A Merciful Divorce. By F. W. MAUDE. 
 
 80. Stephen Ellicott's Daughter. By Mrs. J. H. NEEDELL. 
 
 81. One Reason Why. By BEATRICE WHITBY. 
 
 82. The Tragedy of Ida Noble. By W. CLARK RUSSELL. 
 
 83. The Johnstown Stage, and other Stories. By ROBERT H. FLETCHER. 
 
 84. A Widower Indeed. By RHODA BROUGHTON and ELIZABETH BISLAND. 
 
 85. The Flight of the Shadow. By GEORGE MACDONALD. 
 
 86. Love or Money. By KATHARINE LEE. 
 
 87. Not All in Vain. By ADA CAMBRIDGE. 
 
 88. It Happened Yesterday. By FREDERICK MARSHALL. 
 
 89. My Guardian. By ABA CAMBRIDGE. 
 
 90. The Story of Philip Methuen. By Mrs. J. H. NEEDELL. 
 
 91. Amethyst : The Story of a Beanty. By CHRIST ABEL R. COLERIDGE. 
 
 92. Don Braulio. By JUAN VALERA. Translated by CLARA BELL. 
 
 93. Dukesborough Tales. By RICHARD MALCOLM JOHNSTON. 
 
 94. A Queen of Curds and Cream. By DOROTHEA GERARD. 
 
 95. " La Bella " and Others. By EGERTON CASTLE. 
 
 96. " December Hoses." By Mrs. CAMPBELL-PRAED. 
 
 97. Jean de Kerdren. By JEANNE SCHULTZ. 
 
 98. Etelka's Vow. By DOROTHEA GERARD. 
 
 99. Cross Currents. By MARY A. DICKENS. 
 
 100. His Life's Magnet. By THEODORA ELMSLIE. 
 
 101. Passing the Love of Women. By Mrs. J. H. NEEIIELL. 
 
 102. In Old St. Stephen's. By JEANIE DRAKE. 
 
 103. The Berkeleys and their Neighbors. By MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL. 
 
 Each, 12mo. Paper, 50 cents ; cloth, 75 cents and $1.00. 
 
 "The publishers of the Town and Country Library have been either par- 
 ticularly sagacious or very fortunate in the selection of the novels that have thus 
 far appeared in this excellent series. Not one is lacking in positive merit, and the 
 majority are much above the average fiction of the day. Any person who likes a 
 good story well told can buy any issue in the Town and Country Library with the 
 utmost confidence of finding something well worth while." Boston Beacon. 
 
 " Each is by a story-writer of experience, and affords a few hours of agreeable 
 entertainment." Cincinnati Times-Star. 
 
 New York : D. APPLETON & CO., Publishers, 1, 8, & 5 Bond Street.
 
 D. APPLETON CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 HAND-BOOKS OF SOCIAL USAGES. 
 
 D 
 
 ETIQUETTE OF NEW YORK. Re- 
 written and enlarged. l8mo. Cloth, gilt, $1.00. 
 
 Special pains have been taken to make this work represent accurately 
 existing customs in New York society. The subjects treated are of visiting 
 and visiting-cards, giving and attending balls, receptions, dinners, etc., 
 debuts, chaperons, weddings, opera and theatre parties, costumes and cus- 
 toms, addresses and signatures, and funeral customs, covering so far as 
 practicable all social usages. 
 
 ON'T j or, Directions for avoiding Improprieties in 
 Conduct and Common Errors of Speech. By CENSOR. Parch- 
 ment-Paper Edition, square iSmo, 30 cents. Vest-Pocket Edi- 
 tion, cloth, flexible, gilt edges, red lines, 30 cents. Boudoir 
 Edition (with a new chapter designed for young people), cloth, 
 gilt, 30 cents. i3Oth thousand. 
 
 "Don't" deals with manners at the table, in the drawing-room, and in 
 public, with taste in dress, with personal habits, with common mistakes in 
 various situations in life, and with ordinary errors of speech. 
 
 'HAT TO DO. A Companion to " Don't." By 
 Mrs. OLIVER BELL BUNCE. Small i8mo, cloth,, gilt, uniform 
 with Boudoir Edition of " Don't," 30 cents. 
 
 A dainty little book, containing helpful and practical explanations of 
 social usages and rules. It tells the reader how to entertain and how to be 
 entertained, and sets forth the etiquette of engagements and marriages, in- 
 troductions and calls. 
 
 FORM" IN ENGLAND. By AN 
 AMERICAN, resident in the United Kingdom. I2mo. Cloth, 
 $1.50. 
 
 "The raison d'etre of this book is to provide Americans and especially those 
 visiting England with a concise, comprehensive, and comprehensible hand-book 
 which will give them all necessary information respecting ' how things are ' in Eng- 
 land. While it deals with subjects connected with all ranks and classes, it is particularly 
 intended to be an exhibit and explanation of the ways, habits, customs, and usages of 
 what is known in England as ' high life.' " From the Preface. 
 
 'INTS ABOUT MEN'S DRESS: Right Prin- 
 ciples Economically Applied. By a NEW YORK CLUBMAN. 
 i8mo. Parchment-paper, 30 cents. 
 
 A useful manual, especially for young men desirous of dressing eco- 
 nomically and yet according to the canons of good taste. 
 
 H 
 
 New York: D. APPLETON & CO., i, 3, & 5 Bond Stree
 
 1 158 01228 5 
 
 7 1 046
 
 1158 01228 5176 
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FAOUTY 
 
 III! Hill Hill Illllllllllllll Illll Hill || 
 
 A 000 071 046 7 
 
 I 
 
 PLEA C DO NOT REMOVE 
 THIS BOOK CARD~ 
 
 University Research Library