light in his eye.

He rose when he saw Aunt Golding come in, saluting her with the words,
'Peace be to thee!' on which she, gravely smiling, said,--

'You did not bring peace with you to our place of worship, sir; but I
trust no one will break your peace in my house, where you are welcome to
rest and refresh you this day.'

'No man can break my peace,' said he, 'my soul being ever at rest in
the Holy City, the New Jerusalem.'

'That's a good resting-place indeed,' said our aunt. 'Will you tell me
by what name I am to call you while you stay here? I think no one in our
village knows who you are.'

'Not every one can know my name, but they that have the Light,' said the
man; 'and the world can never know it.'

'But sure, man, you have a name of your own by which the world does know
you,' said our aunt a little impatiently.

'I wish not to deny it,' he replied; 'therefore fret not thyself, good
friend,--my worldly name is James Westrop. And I will tell thee what
thou askest not, that my errand hither is to this young man, Andrew
Golding. I have now told him my message, so I am free to depart; and if
thou likest not of my talk or my ways, I refuse not to leave thy house
and protection this hour.'

'But I will not have you go,' said she, 'till you are refreshed and