* * * * *

Along the rain-swept causeway of Mayton Avenue, keeping close to the
shelter of the houses, his mackintosh turned up to his ears, his hands
buried in his pockets, a man walked swiftly along. At every block he
hesitated and looked around him. His manner was cautious, almost furtive.
Once the glare of an electric light fell upon his face, a face pallid with
fear, almost hopeless with despair. He walked quickly, yet he seemed to
have little idea as to his direction. Suddenly he paused. He was passing a
great building, brilliantly lit. For a moment he thought that it was some
place of entertainment. The thought of entering seemed to occur to him.
Then he felt a firm touch upon his arm, a man in uniform spoke to him.

"Step inside, brother," he invited earnestly, almost eagerly,
notwithstanding his monotonous nasal twang. "Step inside and find peace.
Step inside and the Lord will help you. Throw your burden away on the
threshold."

The man's first impulse at being addressed had seemed to be one of terror.
Then he recognised the uniform and hesitated. The light which streamed out
from the building seemed warm and pleasant. The rain was coming down in
sheets. They were singing a hymn, unmusical, unaccompanied, yet something
in the unison of those human voices, one quality--the quality of
earnestness, of faith--seemed to make an irresistible appeal to the
terrified wanderer. Slowly he moved towards the steps. The man took him by
the arm and led him in. There were the best part of a hundred people
taking their places after the singing of the hymn. A girl was standing up
before them on a platform. She was commencing to speak but suddenly broke
off. She held out her arms towards where the Professor's confidential