Two by two, a long line of girls approached slowly. All wore the blue gowns of the colony, but white caps and white kerchiefs were substituted for those of every-day use. Each carried in her hand a large hymnbook. When the procession turned into the path of the woodland chapel Everett caught sight of Walda, walking last of all. As they marched slowly onward, the girls chanted a hymn. Walda carried her head in the old, proud way, and her manner reassured the watcher who loved her. She was clothed in a trailing gown, fashioned of the white flannel from the colony mills. The clinging folds brought out the noble lines of her figure. The kerchief crossed upon her bosom was of some thin material of the same tint as the flannel. The cap, pushed back from her brow, revealed the waves of her fair hair, which was confined in two long braids. Her face was pale; her lips were firmly set; her eyes shone with the light of peace and courage. The little procession passed quite near Everett, but, although his heart called to her, and his eyes followed her, she appeared unconscious of his presence. He noticed that her hands hung at her sides, and he read a meaning in the fact that she no longer crossed them upon her breast in the old fashion, signifying that she would keep out the world and all its emotions. When the procession appeared before the colonists all the people knelt in their places, none daring to lift curious eyes to her whom they hailed as the instrument of the Lord. The procession moved back of the assembly, crossing to the farther side of the clearing, and then advancing to the front of the platform. Here Walda took the central position, the girls separating to stand on either side of her. The chanting ceased, and Walda bowed her head in prayer. All the elders rose to receive the prophetess of Zanah. Wilhelm Kellar, still weak from his illness, leaned upon his cane and murmured a thanksgiving to the Lord. Gerson Brandt, at the other end of the platform, looked at Walda, and then turned his eyes away, as if the day and hour held something that brought a severe test to the spirit long disciplined to self-control. “Stand not before me, O ye elders,” Walda said, in a clear, steady voice, lifting up one hand to claim attention. “Bow not, O ye people of Zanah, for I am unworthy to be your prophetess.” “Speak not such words of humility,” said Adolph Schneider. “We know that the inspiration hath come to thee. Thou hast already shown to us that thou hast received the gift of tongues. To-day thou shalt be anointed prophetess of Zanah.” “Amen!” shouted one of the elders, and the word was repeated in a chorus by the men.