"'There exists, yonder in the mountains,' said the bishop, 'a tiny community no bigger than that, which I have not seen for three years. They need to be told of the good God now and then. What would they say to a bishop who was afraid? What would they say if I did not go?' "'But the brigands, monseigneur?' "'Hold,' said the bishop, 'I must think of that. You are right. I may meet them. They, too, need to be told of the good God.' "'But, monseigneur, there is a band of them! A flock of wolves!' "'It may be that it is of this very flock of wolves that Jesus has constituted me the shepherd. Who knows the ways of Providence?' "'They will rob you!' "'I have nothing.' "'Do not go, monseigneur. In the name of Heaven! you are risking your life!' "'Is that all?' asked the bishop. 'Well, I am not in the world to guard my life, but to guard souls.'" So he went, and the brigands did not harm him. He reached the little village, and wished to celebrate a mass, but there were no vestments. Nevertheless, the mass was announced, and then one night there was left at the house where the bishop was staying a great chest, and when it was opened all the vestments which had been stolen from the cathedral were found there, together with a paper reading, "From Cravatte to Bishop Welcome." "Wouldn't you like to do a thing like that?" asked Allan, with sparkling eyes, when the chapter was finished. And Bess Heywood nodded, not trusting herself to speak. For a moment their hearts were very close together; for the wholesome, generous heart of youth longs ever to do noble deeds; to emulate the hero who "never turned his back, but marched breast forward;" to fight with strong and valiant soul; to ride forth in knight-errantry, with lance a-rest and sword on thigh, against wrong and treachery and deceit. And well it is that youth dreams dreams and sees visions and makes high resolves, however middle-age may laugh, and cynics sneer, and graybeards shake their heads. For, in the words of Philip Sidney, "Who shoots at the midday sun, though he be sure he shall never hit the mark, yet as sure he is he shall shoot higher than he who aims but at a bush." So let youth aim at the sun while it has heart for the venture; and leave crabbed age to choose the bush for its mark if it will. CHAPTER XVIII FACING THE LION So the afternoon passed happily; with reading, with talking, with little confidences, interrupted, now and then, by the busy instrument on the table, or by some trainman stalking in to get his orders, and going out with a knowing smile upon his lips. All too soon, as it seemed to Allan, the night man came up the steps; for the first time in his experience, Allan found the sight of him unwelcome. Ten minutes later, the train was bearing him and Bess Heywood homewards. That half-hour journey never seemed so short. Mr. Heywood was awaiting them on the grimy Wadsworth platform.