"Unless you can tell me any more." He did not say this lightly.

"Is that all?" she asked again, as if his words had been unmeaning.

"Well now, I think that's enough. 'Tisn't every day this poor earth of
ours is favoured by hearing sermons from one as has been t'other side of
dying. I think it would be more worth while to hear him than to go to
church, I do."

"Do you mean to say," she asked, with some asperity, "that you really
believe it?"

"I tell you I saw the first part of it myself, and unless you can give
me a good reason for not believing the second, I'm inclined to swallow
it down whole, Miss Cameron--I beg your pardon, White, I mean. One gets
real confused in names, occasionally."

"Well," said Eliza, composedly, preparing to leave him, "I can't say I
understand it, Mr. Harkness, but I must say it sounds too hard for me to
believe."

He looked after her with intense curiosity in his eyes, and in the next
few days returned to the subject in her presence again and again,
repeating to her all the comments that were made on the story in the
bar-room, but he could not rouse her from an appearance of cheerful
unconcern.

Another item appeared in the papers; the old man called Cameron had been
brought before the magistrates at Quebec for some street disturbance of