“Doubtless,” said Micah Ward, “such a blow will be stricken, but not in our time, James Hope. The fighting spirit is gone from us. The men are laid low or scattered or broken. The people speak about the ‘break.’ They call it well. ‘Shall iron break the northern iron and the steel?’ Yea, but iron hath broken us. It hath entered into our souls. And if one look unto the land, behold darkness and sorrow and the light is darkened in the heavens thereof.” “But there is another land,” said Neal, “where the sun shines, where neither palaces of kings, nor haughty churches, nor the banners and cannon smoke of England’s soldiers, nor yet the gallows, casting shadows over the green fields, and overtopping every village, can come between the people and the good light which the Lord God made for them. That’s the land for you and me.” “For you, Neal,” said Micah Ward, “and for the girl you love. But there is no other land except only this lost land for me and him.” He took Hope’s hand and held it. Then, with his other hand, he drew his son down beside him. Neal knelt on the earthen floor of the cottage. He felt hands laid upon his head--his father’s hands and James Hope’s. The benediction came from both of them, though it was Micah Ward’s voice which spoke the words-- “The Lord hear thee in the day of trouble, Neal; The name of the God of Jacob defend thee; Send thee help from the sanctuary, And strengthen thee out of Zion; Remember all thy offerings, And accept thy burnt sacrifice; Grant thee according to thine own heart, And fulfil all thy counsel.” THE END End of Project Gutenberg’s The Northern Iron, by George A. Birmingham