"Oh how good it was of you," she cried to Amer, "to let me do that bit of work. The poor little boy was sick and suffering. As I tended him and tried to dry his tears, a bright angel came from the King to take him to the Radiant City; and," she added in a soft, awed tone of voice, "the angel gave me a message from the King." "A message?" repeated Amer. "Yes," said the girl softly, "a message straight from the King Himself." "What was the message?" "' Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto Me.'" Amer was silent and ashamed, while a sudden craving for his King's approbation took possession of him, and made him realize for the first time that the Radiant City had almost faded from his sight and that he was out of touch with it. It was with a start that he noticed its dimness. Was the stranger right then? Had he through pride and carelessness drifted into the hands of the enemy? He grasped his sword, which for some time had hung idle by his side, and cried out to his King. CHAPTER XIII. THE CROSS IN THE VALLEY. It was with grief that the band of pilgrims watched Amer out of sight as his path diverged from theirs. "But," they said, "we could not expect to have his company long. The King has other plans for him than to help and lead such a small band of pilgrims." "Have you noticed," said one of them, "that his advice has not been of late so ready for us, that he has grown graver and sadder?" "Yes," answered his companion, "he seemed to lose his zeal and his assurance, and to be weary." "It is tiring climbing to the heights," said a third, "as for me I would rather be led through the valleys. I like lowly paths best." "Anyhow," said another, "we are saved the enemies that often attack those whose path leads them to the peaks. We are not so strong and brave as Amer, and would not be able to overcome them as he has done." But Amer himself, as he began to descend into the valley through which his path lay, was filled with sadness. Depression walked by his side, while the family of Morbids held fast hold of his ankles so that his footsteps dragged heavily. He had no courage to fight them or to resist them. So far away seemed the Radiant City and his King that he felt it was almost impossible to look up, and his path lay down, down, down, into the Valley of Humiliation. He began now to remember how that good soldier, Heman, had shrunk away from anything in the form of praise, how he would never talk about himself, and was always on the watch against the enemy Pride. He remembered how on the occasion when Belthiah had been asked the secret of her peaceful aspect, Heman had hastily looked around him in search of the enemy, warning her that he was listening for her answer.