“They are comely,” the innkeeper answered, in his laconic fashion. “How darest thou tell me that? To-day I am half persuaded to confess to the elders that at last I have learned the love of man is not to be trusted. I have a mind to claim promotion to the second rank of the colony, and who knows but I may soon hate thee enough to serve the Lord in singleness of purpose!” “Thy tongue proveth thou mayst yet become like Mother Schneider and Mother Kaufmann, who have long been in the third rank because they love not men,” remarked Diedrich Werther. “Thou speakest hateful words.” Mother Werther’s voice was choked with anger. “Many times hast thou tried me sorely, but never until to-day have I seen that thou art indeed a man with sinful impulses. Thy feet have been turned from the straight and narrow way. Thou hast a liking for wicked things.” Everett smiled when he heard what he might take as an object-lesson of the inevitable experience of even the most faithful of married couples. He shrugged his shoulders, and thought that, after all, it was only the few who knew the real meaning of love, the love that blended worship and lofty aspiration. Diedrich Werther came into the office. It was plain that the berating he had received had not disturbed his phlegmatic calm. He shuffled along in his carpet slippers until he reached the desk, behind which he perched himself on a high stool. Everett felt irritated at the unpleasant interruption to his thoughts of Walda. He snatched up his soft felt hat and went out into the muddy street. He turned his steps towards Wilhelm Kellar’s room, where he found his patient sitting up in an arm-chair. Gerson Brandt was with him. The two colonists showed an unusual restraint in the presence of the stranger in Zanah. “I have been telling Brother Brandt that I need thy services no longer,” said Wilhelm Kellar, addressing Everett. “There is nothing to hinder thee from leaving Zanah to-morrow.” Everett noticed that Gerson Brandt watched him closely while Wilhelm Kellar spoke. “I shall not go away for at least a week,” said Everett, leaning against the chest of drawers, and assuming an indifferent manner. “It is strange that thou findest colony life so pleasant,” said Gerson Brandt. “It is restful and interesting to me,” Everett replied, carelessly. As he faced the two elders of Zanah he felt a twinge of remorse, because his dearest purpose in life was to win from them Walda Kellar. He who had held honor first experienced a certain amount of self-abasement, but he quieted his conscience, as he had many times before, by the thought that love was the ruling power of the world, and that all things should give way before it. “The colony of Zanah would recompense thee for thy services in helping to restore me to health,” said Wilhelm Kellar. “Wilt thou render to me thine accounting?”