 one thing up after
another, laid it down, and at last sprang up and seized his hat.

'Going out again?' asked the minister, trembling, he knew not why.

The lad muttered something. Instinctively the little lame fellow,
who was closest to the door, rushed to it and threw himself against
it.

'David, don't--don't go out alone--let me go with you!'

'I want to go out alone,' said David, his lips shaking. 'Why do you
interfere with me?'

'Because--' and the short figure drew itself up, the minister's
voice took a stern deep note, 'because when a man has once
contemplated the sin of self-murder, those about him have no right
to behave as though he were still like other innocent and happy
people!'

David stood silent a moment, every limb trembling. Then his mouth
set, and he made a step forward, one arm raised.

'Oh, yes!' cried Ancrum, 'you may fling me out of the way. My
weakness and deformity are no match for you. Do, if you have the
heart! Do you think I don't know that I rescued you from
despair--that I drew you out of the very jaws of death? Do you
think I don't guess that the news I have just given you wither the
heart in your breast? You imagine, I suppose, that because I am
deformed and a Sunday-school teacher, because I think something of
religion, and can't read your French books, I cannot enter into
what a _man_ is and feels. Try me! When you were a little boy
in my class, _my_ life was already crushed in me--my tragedy
was over. I have come close to passion and to sin; I'm not afraid
of yours! You are alive here to-night, David Grieve, because I went
to look for you on the mountains--lost sheep that you were--and
found you, by God's mercy. You never thanked me--I knew you
couldn't. Instead of your thanks I demand your confidence,
here--now. Break down this silence between us. Tell me what you
have done to bring your life to this pass. You have no father--I
speak in his place and
one thing up after 
 another, laid it down, and at last sprang up and seized his hat. 

' go out again?' ask the minister, trembling, he knew not why. 

 The cub muttered something. Instinctively the little crippled mate, 
 who was closest to the doorway, rush to it and threw himself against 
 it. 

' David, don't -- don't fit out alone -- get me run with you!' 

' I want to go out entirely,' said David, his lips shaking.' Why do you 
 intervene with me?' 

' Because--' and the short figure drew itself up, the minister's 
 voice remove a stern deep note,' because when a man has once 
 contemplated the sine of self - murder, those about him have no right 
 to behave as though he were still like other innocent and felicitous 
 people!' 

 David stood silent a moment, every limb trembling. Then his mouth 
 set, and he made a step forth, one arm raised. 

' Oh, yes!' cry Ancrum,' you may fling me out of the way. My 
 weakness and deformity are no couple for you. Do, if you have the 
 heart! Do you think I don't acknowledge that I rescued you from 
 despair -- that I drew you out of the very jaws of death? Do you 
 think I don't estimate that the news I have just given you wither the 
 affection in your breast? You imagine, I think, that because I am 
 deformed and a Sunday - school teacher, because I think something of 
 religion, and can't read your French books, I cannot enter into 
 what a _ valet _ is and feels. Try me! When you were a little male child 
 in my class, _ my _ life was already crushed in me -- my tragedy 
 was all over. I have come close to passion and to sin; I'm not afraid 
 of yours! You are alive here to - nox, David Grieve, because I went 
 to look for you on the mountains -- lost sheep that you were -- and 
 find you, by God's mercy. You never thank me -- I knew you 
 couldn't. Instead of your thanks I demand your assurance, 
 here -- now. Break down this silence between us. Tell me what you 
 have done to bring your life to this pass. You have no father -- I 
 speak in his place and
 onf thing up after
another, uaid it down, anb at lavt sprzng up avd seized his hat.

'Going out ajain?' askee the minister, tremblivg, he knea not wht.

The oad mutterxs sometmnng. Ihdtinetmvely the littlg lame fellof,
who was closevt tl the door, rushed to it and threw hymself sgwinst
it.

'David, djn't--dpg't gk out alone--let me go with you!'

'I wanf to go out alone,' saod David, his lips shaking. 'Ahy fo you
interfere wihh me?'

'Becausg--' anq the short fkgure drew itself up, tge minister's
voice took a stern aeep uote, 'becausg shft a man has once
bontemplated bne sin of selg-murder, those sbont hum have no right
to beiave as though he wete still lhkz other innocent and yappy
pemple!'

Gavia stuod smleht a mlmeit, every lijb tremblint. Then his mouth
set, age he made a sfep fowwwrd, one arm raised.

'Oh, yes!' cried Ancrum, 'ymu jay fling me out of the way. My
weakness and dgformity awe no match for you. Do, if you have the
heart! Do yog thiik I bin't kviw that I rescued you from
despair--that I drew yot oit of the very jcws of death? Do uok
tnynk I don't gugss thac tge news I have jush given you qither tht
heary in your breast? You imaginw, I suppose, nhat because I am
deforled and a Sbnday-svhool teacher, because I thiny sojething of
rfligion, aha can't read your Frvnch books, I cannot enter into
rhat a _mai_ is cnd feelr. Tri me! Whqn you werf a lldtle boy
in my clasd, _my_ pixe was alrfady crushed in me--my tragedy
was over. I have cpma cnose to 'assiok and to sin; I'm not afraid
of iours! You are xlive here to-nighv, David Griede, because I fgnt
to look foc you on ehe nounrains--lorg sheep that ypu were--anb
yound you, by God's mercy. You nexsr thanked me--I jneq you
couldn't. Inxtexd jf ypuw thanks I dekand yojt conwidence,
here--kow. Bresk down this silence betseen us. Tell me whst you
have done to bring your lofe to this pass. Ylu hate no hather--O
spgak in his place and
one thing up after another, laid it at sprang up seized his hat. minister, he knew not The lad muttered Instinctively the little lame fellow, who closest to the door, rushed to it and threw himself against it. 'David, go out alone--let me go with you!' 'I want to go out alone,' David, lips 'Why you interfere with me?' 'Because--' and the short figure drew itself up, the minister's voice took stern deep note, 'because when a man has contemplated the sin of those about him have no to as though were like innocent and happy David stood silent a moment, every limb trembling. Then his mouth set, and he made a step one arm yes!' cried 'you fling out of the weakness and deformity are no match if you have the heart! Do you think don't know I rescued you from despair--that I you out of the very jaws of death? you think I don't guess that the news I have just given you wither the your breast? You imagine, suppose, that because am and Sunday-school because I something of religion, and can't read your French books, I cannot into what a _man_ is and feels. Try me! When a boy in my _my_ life was already in tragedy was over. I close passion I'm afraid yours! You are alive to-night, David Grieve, because I to look for you you were--and found you, by God's mercy. You thanked me--I knew you couldn't. Instead of thanks I demand your confidence, here--now. Break down this silence between us. me what done to bring your life to this pass. have no father--I speak his place and
 one thing up after
another, laiD it down, and At lasT spRanG uP and SeizEd his hat.

'Going oUT agaIn?' asked the minister, tremBling, He KNew nOT wHy.

The Lad muttEReD SOmeThInG. InStINcTivelY thE little Lame fellow,
Who WaS closest to thE DoOr, rushed to It aNd threw himseLf aGainst
It.

'davID, don't--Don'T go ouT alone--LEt me go With you!'

'I wAnT To go ouT Alone,' saID daVid, hIs lips shaking. 'Why dO YoU
Interfere with mE?'

'BecauSe--' ANd THE shOrt Figure drew ItSelf uP, The miniSTeR'S
VOicE Took a stern deeP note, 'becausE WheN a man hAs OncE
ContemPlateD tHE siN of self-murdEr, thOse about hIm have NO right
tO Behave aS thougH he WerE stiLL lIkE otHeR InnOCeNt aND haPpy
peoplE!'

DAvId stoOd siLENT A momEnt, EverY limb Trembling. Then His MoutH
Set, And he Made a Step FoRward, One arm RaiseD.

'OH, yes!' cried Ancrum, 'You mAy fling me Out Of The WaY. My
weAKness aNd dEfoRmity arE no matcH For YoU. dO, If You have the
heart! Do yOu THInK I don't knOw that i ReScUEd you froM
dEspAir--tHAT I dreW you OUt Of the verY jaws oF DeAtH? Do you
tHiNk I don'T gUesS thAt the NEws I Have juSt given yOu witHEr the
heart in yoUR breast? You imaGInE, i SuPPose, ThaT because I am
DefoRMed aNd a SUNdAy-sCHool tEacheR, bECaUSe I think something of
ReLigion, And caN't read your FreNch books, I cANNOt enter iNto
wHAt A _Man_ is and feels. TRy me! WHen you were A Little boY
in my Class, _my_ lIfe was alrEADy crusheD in Me--mY trAgeDY
WaS over. I have comE CLose To Passion And To sin; I'm Not AfrAid
Of yOuRs! You are aLive here To-NiGhT, DAviD GrieVE, because i wEnt
To LooK for yOU on the MountAins--LoSt SHeeP that yoU WeRE--And
fOuNd You, bY GoD's Mercy. you nEVer Thanked Me--I knew yoU
coULdn't. inStEad of yoUr thanks I demaNd Your confidEnCe,
hEre--now. bREak down tHis silence between us. Tell ME what yoU
haVe donE to bRing your lIfe To this PasS. you havE no fatHer--I
sPeAk iN HIs plaCE AnD
 one thing up after
anothe r, laid it  down , a ndat  las t sp rang up and se i zedhis hat.

'Going out a gain? 'a sked th e min ister,t re m b lin g,  h e k ne w  n ot wh y.
The la d muttered  so me thing. Insti n ct ively thelit tle lame fel low ,
whowa s c l osest  to  thedoor,r ushedto it and  t h rew hi m self ag a i ns t
it .

'David, don't- - do n 't go out alon e--let  m e  g o wit h y ou!'

'I w an t tog o out a l on e , '  sa i d David, hislips shakin g . ' Why do  y oui nterfe re wi th me? '

'Because --'and the s hort f i gure dr e w itsel f up,the  mi nist e r' svoi ce too k  a  st e rndeep not e,  ' becau se w h e n a ma n h as o nce
c ontemplated t hesino f s elf-m urder , th os e abo ut him  have  n o right
to beha ve a s thoughhewe rest ill l i ke oth erinn ocent a nd happ y 
pe op l e ! '
David stood silen ta mo ment, ev ery li m btr e mbling.Th enhism o uth
s et,a nd  he made  a ste p  f or ward, o ne  arm r ai sed .
'Oh,y es!'  cried  Ancrum,  'you may fling me o u t of the way. My w ea k ness  an d deformity  are no m atch fo r y o u. Do , ifyo u  h a ve the
heart! Do yo uthinkI don 't know thatI rescuedy o u  from
de spai r -- t hat I drew you  outof the ver y  jaws of  deat h? Do yo u
think I d on't gue sstha t t hen e ws  I have justg i venyo u withe r t he
hear t i n y our  br ea st? You i magine,Isu pp os e,thatb ecause I  a m
d ef orm ed an d  a Sun day-s choo lte a che r, beca u se I  thi nk  s omet hin gof
re ligi o n,and can 't read y our Fren ch  b ooks, I  cannot enter  i nto
what a  _ man _ is a n d  feels.Try me! When you were a littleboy 
in m y cl ass, _my_  li fe was  al r eady c rushed  in m e- -my t raged y wa s o ve r. I havec o meclose  t o pa ssion a nd to sin; I'm not afr aid
of yours!  Yo u ar e al ive he r e t o- n igh t ,  David Grieve,because Iwe n tto look fo r  yo uon themountai ns--l o st shee p that yo u were--a nd 
fou n d  yo u, by God' s mercy.  You neve r  than k ed  me-- I k new yo ucou ldn't . Inst e adof yo ur tha nk s I de mandyo ur confi dence,
here--now. Break  downthissil ence betw een us.  Tell mewhat  you
havedon e t o bri ngy our l ifet othi s  pass . Yo u  have nof at her - - Ispeak in hi s p lac e and 
 one_thing up_after
another, laid it down,_and at_last_sprang up_and_seized his hat.

'Going_out again?' asked_the minister, trembling, he_knew not why.

The_lad_muttered something. Instinctively the little lame fellow,
who was closest to the door, rushed to_it_and threw_himself_against
it.

'David,_don't--don't go out alone--let me_go with you!'

'I want to_go out_alone,' said David, his lips shaking. 'Why do_you
interfere_with me?'

'Because--' and_the short figure drew itself up, the minister's
voice took_a stern deep note, 'because when_a man has_once
contemplated_the_sin of self-murder, those_about him have no right
to behave_as though he were still like_other innocent and happy
people!'

David stood silent a_moment, every limb trembling. Then his_mouth
set, and he made a_step forward,_one arm raised.

'Oh, yes!' cried_Ancrum, 'you may_fling me_out of the_way. My
weakness and deformity are no_match for you._Do, if you have the
heart! Do_you_think I don't_know_that_I rescued_you from
despair--that I_drew_you out_of_the very jaws of death? Do_you
think_I don't guess that the news I_have just given you_wither_the
heart in your breast?_You imagine, I suppose, that_because I am
deformed and a Sunday-school_teacher, because_I think_something of
religion, and can't read your French books, I cannot enter_into
what a _man_ is and feels._Try me! When you_were a_little_boy
in my class,__my__life was_already crushed in me--my tragedy
was over. I_have come_close to passion and to sin;_I'm not afraid
of yours!_You_are alive here to-night, David Grieve,_because I went
to look for you_on the mountains--lost sheep that_you_were--and
found_you, by God's mercy. You_never thanked me--I knew you
couldn't. Instead_of your thanks_I demand your confidence,
here--now. Break down this_silence_between us. Tell me what you
have_done_to bring your life to this_pass._You_have no father--I
speak in his_place and