temporary altar, and retired with the rest for a few moments, while
Father Fabian held a brief conversation with the penitent old man,
touching the affairs of his conscience; then he summoned them in; and
while they knelt, he arranged himself in surplice and stole, and in a
solemn, impressive manner, began the sacramental rite. "'_Behold
him--behold the Lamb of God, who taketh away the sins of the world_,'"
he said, holding up the sacred host. "'_He that eateth my flesh, and
drinketh my blood_,' says the Redeemer, '_hath ever-lasting life, and I
will raise him up on the last day_.' The day of life was almost spent,
when you came to him; night was coming on, but He, in the plenitude of
His divine compassion, turned you not away, but gives you a princely
reward--even Himself. Like the Prodigal, destitute and naked, you
return, and receiving you, He spreads a mystic feast, in which He gives
you heavenly food; and while the shadow of death falls around you, lo!
He comes to go with you towards those dismal portals, and admit you to
a region of probation and everlasting hope. Humbly confiding, and
strong in faith, receive Him, not as a representation or mere memorial
of the Son of God, but Jesus Christ himself. 'Corpus Domini nostri
Jesu;'" and, as Father Fabian pronounced the words, he administered the
bread of Eternal Life to the dying man. What could have changed that
dark, repulsive face so entirely, that it looked an image of humility?
Was it death? Was it memory? Or was it the effect of new and divine
influences? It was surely nothing mortal. He lifted his eyes to
Father Fabian's face--then turned them in search of May. She was by
his side in a moment.

"Unworthy--unworthy," he whispered; then they saw his lips moving in
silent and earnest prayer. Dr. Burrell had regarded the whole scene
with interest and awe. The whole scene preached to his inmost soul.
Doctrinal arguments and learned polemics, he could have tilted with,