"See," He said tenderly, "what My deliverance has done for you; now you can meet the King without fear. Covered by this robe, you will be accepted even in His eyes, because when He sees it He will remember that I have fought for you and prevailed; and He will count My merits yours." He led them now swiftly, it seemed to me, towards a spot which He told them would be the Meeting-place, but for the first time I was unable to follow them. A thin cloud seemed to obscure my vision for a while. When I saw the boys again their Guide had left them, and they were walking along the road towards the Palace of the King, which lay at the end of the journey. They were busily engaged in perusing the Guide-book, which Edred had before so despised; but now his face bent over it with a look which was both inquiring and trustful. "What does it mean, Alwin, when it says, 'Needeth not save to wash his feet?'" "Does it not mean that we, who have been cleansed from all that filth by the wonderful efficacy of our Deliverer's Blood, still may get defilements in our path, and that these will need constant washing away?" "I suppose it does," said Edred hesitatingly and looking round; "but where----?" "Our Deliverer told us--do you not remember it?--that by our road we should find a cleansing stream, dyed by His Blood, to which we must needs constantly repair." "He did, but I had well-nigh forgotten it; but see, Alwin, the end of the journey is not so very far off; just beyond those Hills, where the radiance is; there will be nothing to defile us _there_." Alwin looked towards the Hills in silence, with a rapt face, on which the glory seemed reflected. Then he added suddenly, "Our Deliverer said that He might fetch us Himself, instead of our travelling so far; that would be better still, Edred." "Indeed it would," answered Edred earnestly. "I hope He will." Then I awoke from my dream. * * * * * "And this text has been running in my head while I have been pondering over my dream," added Agnes, "'The blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin'--and--'He hath made us accepted in the Beloved.'" [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER VI. _AT LAST: AN ALLEGORY._ "I am sorry we have come to the Gold page," said Alice, with a sigh, folding her hands together as she seated herself in the bow-window seat on the Sunday before their parents were to sail for America. "_Sorry!_" echoed Minnie, "why, I am very glad indeed!" "Because it is the last, I mean," answered Alice; "we shall miss our Sunday afternoon story dreadfully." "I propose that Agnes tells us one every Sunday," said John. Agnes shook her head, but answered, half-smiling. "Sometimes, perhaps, I may, but you know they cannot be all allegories." "Oh, no!" said Hugh; "but let us begin our last page now." Gold--Glory. Once again I dreamed, and once again I saw the boys in whom I took so much interest.