"It was only--that night," she said, tremulously. "It seemed very strange. Before the fire, I had the dream. It was a dream of fire and danger--danger that I could not escape from. And I held out my hands--and I found you there--and you saved me. Oh, Mr. Armstrong! As you _did_ save me, afterwards!" Roger Armstrong turned, and faced her. His deep, earnest eyes, lit with a new, strange radiance, smote upon hers, and held them spellbound with their glance. "I, too, dreamed that night," said he, "of an unknown peril to you. You beckoned me. I sprang from out that dream, and rushed into the night--until I found you!" Their two souls met, in that brief recital, and knew that they had met before. That, through the dreamland, there had been that call and answer. Faith neither spoke, nor stirred, nor trembled. This supreme moment of her life held her unmoved in its own mightiness. Roger Armstrong held out both his hands. "Faith! In the sight of God, I believe you belong to me!" At that solemn word, of force beyond all claim of a mere mortal love, Faith stretched her hands in answer, and laid them into his, and bowed her head above them. "In the sight of God, I belong to you!" So she gave herself. So she was taken. As God's gift, to the heart that had been earthly desolate so long. There was no dread, no shrinking, in that moment. A perfect love cast out all fear. And the new moon and the evening star shone down together in an absolute peace. CHAPTER XXXIII. LAST HOURS. "In this dim world of clouding cares We rarely know, till 'wildered eyes See white wings lessening up the skies, The angels with us unawares. . . . . . "Strange glory streams through life's wild rents, And through the open door of death We see the heaven that beckoneth To the beloved going hence." GERALD MASSEY. "Read me the twenty-third Psalm," said Miss Henderson. It was the evening before the day fixed upon by her physicians for the surgical operation she had decided to submit to. Faith was in her place by the bedside, her hand resting in that of her aunt. Mr. Armstrong sat near--an open Bible before him. Miss Sampson had gone down the field for a "snatch of air." Clear upon the stillness fell the sacred words of cheer. There was a strong, sure gladness in the tone that uttered them, that told they were born anew, in the breathing, from a heart that had proved the goodness and mercy of the Lord. In a solemn gladness, also, two other hearts received them, and said, silently, Amen! "Now the fourteenth of St. John." "'In my father's house are many mansions.' 'I will dwell in the house of the Lord, forever.' Yes. It holds us all. Under one roof. One family--whatever happens! Now, put away the book, and come here; you two!" It was done; and Roger Armstrong and Faith Gartney stood up, side by side, before her.