"Yes, Raven boy, but that wasn't why I read you the story which has often struck me. What I wanted you to see was this: The man was detected--the thing had been coming, creeping horribly near to him; first his tribe marked by the fatal lot, then his family, then his house, then himself; and while he's standing there, guilty and detected, in the very midst of that crowd who had been defeated because of his baseness, and when all their eyes were scowling on him, and when he knows that he, and his sons, and his daughters, are going to be burned and stoned--at this very moment Joshua says to him, `My son, _give, I pray thee, glory to the God of Israel_.' You see he's to _thank God_ for detecting him--thank God even at that frightful moment, and with that frightful death before him as a consequence. One would have thought that it wasn't a matter for much gratitude or jubilation; but you see it _was_, and so both Joshua and Achan seem to have admitted." "Ah, Kenrick!" said Wilton, sadly, "if you'd always talked to me like that, I shouldn't be like Achan now." Kenrick said nothing, but as he had received infinite comfort from Dr Lane's treatment of himself, he took Wilton by the hand, and, without saying a word, knelt down. Wilton knelt down beside him, and he prayed for forgiveness for them both. A few broken, confused, uncertain words only, but they were earnest, and they came fresh and burning from the heart. They were words of true prayer, and the poor, erring, hardened little boy rose from his knees too overcome to speak. CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN. THE RECONCILIATION AND THE LOSS. The few remain, the many change and pass, Heaven's light alone remains, earth's shadows flee; Life, like a dome of many coloured glass, Stains the white radiance of eternity, Until death shiver it to atoms. Shelley's _Adonais_. The termination of Wilton's sojourn at Saint Winifred's soon arrived. As yet none but the two head boys in the house knew of his detection. The thefts indeed had ceased; but the name of the offender was still a matter of constant surmise, and it was no easy task for Wilton-- conscious how soon they would be informed--to listen to the strong terms of disgust which were applied to the yet unknown delinquent. The barriers of his conceit, his coolness, his audacity, were all broken down; he was a changed boy; his manner was grave and silent, and he almost hid himself during those days in Kenrick's study, where Kenrick, with true kindness, still permitted him to sit.