the priest.

"Go forth, Christian soul, out of this world, in the name of God the
Father Almighty, Who created thee: in the name of Jesus Christ, the Son
of the Living God, Who suffered for thee"--thus the quiet voice
continued until those prayerful words: "Pity his sighs, pity his tears,
trusting in nothing but thy mercy"--when the last long breath, like a
sigh of relief, passed from the dying man's lips as his soul departed.

I could not shake off a sense of loss as keen as though some dearly
loved friend had been taken from me. Val and I walked home in unbroken
silence through the shadow of the wood, newly decked in tender green
buds, up to the rising ground beyond. My brother seemed as much
touched as I.

It was not until our meal was over, and we sat on either side of the
still necessary fire, though we had dined without a lamp, and still
preferred the dusk for a quiet talk, that Val spoke of Archie.

"Now that the poor old fellow is at rest," he said, "I will tell you,
by his express desire, something about his history. He wanted me to
promise to make it public, but that I resolutely refused to do, for
many reasons. 'Let Mr. Edmund know, at least,' he said. 'I do not
want him to have too good an opinion of me, or he will not pray as much
as I should wish for my poor soul.' So you have a right to know, Ted."

And with that he unfolded the story of Archie McLean's early years.

Archie had been a wild boy in his youth, with a strong propensity for
drink--hereditary, unfortunately--which he was not so well able to