hour in which to make her disclosure.

In the afternoon, when service was held in the chapel, everybody
hastened thither, intent upon seeing Brother Mauer, and hearing about
his mission work and adventures. He sat among the widowers; devoutly
singing, his eyes cast down, as if he felt that all eyes were gazing
upon him.

When the hymn was ended, the principal elders and teachers came up to
Mauer, greeting him with cordial hand-shakings, and leading him, with
words of hearty welcome, to a more prominent seat, from which he could
address the congregation. He bore himself with a firmer carriage
to-day, and the dignity of his tall figure was more conspicuous than on
the evening before. With a happy smile, he let his glance roam over
the assembly of Brothers and Sisters, many of whom were unknown to him;
indeed, the large majority were strange, yet he held each and all dear,
as forming a part of his home surroundings. As he passed up the aisle,
between the two elders who conducted him, the door of the chapel
opened, and a tardy member entered. It was Brother Jonathan Fricke.
His manner was even humbler than usual, and his eyes wandered
restlessly around: perhaps he had heard of Brother Mauer's arrival, and
was looking for him. In the centre of the aisle, which was filled with
people, he met the three men. Jonathan's glance fell on the tall form
of his old friend; he stretched out his hand, and said in a low voice:

"Do the dead rise, Brother Michael?"

Mauer shrank back at the words; and as he recognized the speaker he
grew deathly pale, his eyes dilated with an expression of horror, and
he staggered forward.