What was this strange figure? Who was he? As she stared, the outline
drew nearer. A man vested in long white draperies confronted her. He was
bareheaded and appeared insensible to the cold in which she shivered.
She put out her hand and something folded it back upon her breast. She
opened her lips and something sealed them.

As she watched, the figure slowly moved. It bent forward and went slowly
down on its knees on the sidewalk. The white hand began to trace
strange, mysterious, unknown, incomprehensible characters upon the
pavement. She watched with bated breath, some memory of another sinful
woman of whom she had heard in childhood coming back to her prostrate
mind. Yes, and there behind the figure stood others, hateful and hating,
very violent, passionate men. She stared from the handwriting in the
dust to these others and they faded away. She was alone with the
kneeling figure and, as she looked, it too vanished in the chill air.

She bent over the pavement. There was nothing there, yet she had
received a message. After a last glance she turned away, new courage,
new life, new hope in her heart.

She mounted the steps, she laid her hand upon the knob of the church
door, she turned it and went bravely within.




VI

The Burden Bearer