Many years before Moses had been immersed in the baptistery at
Rehoboth by the old pastor, Mr. Morell. He stepped into those
waters as Moses Fletcher, and he was Moses Fletcher when he came
up out of them, despite the benediction breathed on his dedicated
soul. But on this autumn afternoon Moses Fletcher--the cruel,
exacting, self-righteous Moses Fletcher--was buried in baptism,
and there stepped out of those moorland waters another man,
bearing in his arms a little child.



III.

THE ATONEMENT OF MOSES FLETCHER.


On the evening of the day following the rescue of Oliver o' Deaf
Martha's child, Moses Fletcher was walking over the moors towards
his own home, a great peace possessing his soul, and a buoyant
step bearing him through a new world. Above him the mellow moon of
September dreamed in blue distances, the immensities of which were
measured by innumerable constellations. Around, the great hills
loomed dark in shadow, and bulked in relief against the far-off
horizon of night. Along the troughs and gullies lay streaks of
white fog, ever shaping themselves into folds and fringes, and,
like wraiths, noiselessly vanishing on the hillside; while over
all rested a great stillness, as though for once the fevered earth
slept in innocence beneath the benediction of that world so vast,
so high, and yet so near. Many a time, amid such surroundings, had
Moses traversed the same path. Never before, however, had he