He laughed. “That’s just where you’re wrong—it’s the very proper life for a man like me, it’s the life I should have been leading the last thirty years. Howsoever, it’s not too late to mend, and reckon I’ll be glad to have my part in the big job at last. Here’s thirty years that I’ve been preaching the Day of the Lord, and now’s my chance of helping that day through a bit.” He stood up and pushed back his chair. “Oh, doan’t be going yit, Mus’ Sumption.” “Reckon I must—I’ve all sorts of things to do. Don’t be sorry for me—I’m doing the happiest thing I ever did as well as the best. I’ll be doing the work I was born for, and I’ll be helping the world through judgment, and I’ll be doing what I owe my boy—your boy—all the boys that are dead.” Thyrza’s eyes filled with tears when he spoke of Tom. For a moment he seemed to forget his surroundings, and to fancy himself back in the pulpit he had renounced, for he held up his hand and his voice came throatily: “Behold the day cometh that shall burn as an oven; and all the proud, yea, and all that do wickedly shall be as stubble. But unto you that fear My name shall the Sun of Righteousness arise with healing in His wings. And He shall turn the heart of the fathers to their children, and the heart of the children to their fathers.... Oh, Thyrza, the world is sown over with young, brave lives, and it’s our job to see that they are not as the seed scattered by the wayside, sown in vain. Reckon we must water them with our tears and manure them with our works, and so we shall quicken the harvest of Aceldama, when our beloved shall rise again....” His voice strangled a little; then he continued in his ordinary tones: “That’s why I’m joining up. I owe it to Jerry—to finish what he began. By working hard, and submitting to orders, as he could never do, poor soul, maybe I’ll be able to clear off the debt he owed. He shall rise again in his father’s effort....” Thyrza was crying now. “And Tom?” she asked in her tears—“I want to do summat for him, too, Mus’ Sumption. How shall Tom rise up agaun?” He pointed to the cradle at her feet: “There’s your Tom—risen again both for you and for his country. Take him and be comforted.” She sank down on her knees beside the cradle, hiding her face under the hood, and he turned and left her, stalking out through the shop into the darkness. Crouching there in the firelight, with her baby held warm and heavy against her breast, she heard his tread grow fainter and fainter, till at last only an occasional throb of wind brought her the footsteps of the lonely man upon the road. * * * * * * Transcriber’s note: ● Simple spelling, grammar, and typographical errors have been silently corrected. ● Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed.