"I was for putting in a disclaimer, but he went on:

"'She has a soul to save--a very precious soul. Mark you, if works
could save a soul, hers would be secure. And I have thought
sometimes God cannot judge her harshly; for consider of how much
value the life of one such woman must be in such a community as this!
You should observe how the men respect her. And yet we have the
divine assurance that works without grace are naught; and her
carelessness on sacred matters is appalling. If, when I am gone'--
and it struck me sharply that not only the western mountains but the
cemetery gate lay in the direction of his nod, and that the gate lay
nearer--'if you could speak to her now and then--ah, you can hardly
guess how it would rejoice me some day when I return, bearing'--and
his voice sank here--'bearing, please God, my sheaves with me!'

"'But why,' I urged, 'go farther, when work like this lies at your
hand?'

"'I have thought of that; but only for a moment. It may sound
presumptuous to you; I am very young; but there is bigger work for me
ahead, and I am called. I cannot argue about this. I _know_.
I have a sign. Look up at the mountain, yonder--high up, above the
quicksilver mines. Do you see those bright lights flashing?'

"Sure enough, above the disused works a line of sparkling lights led
the eye upwards to the snow-fields, as if traced in diamonds.
The phenomenon was certainly astonishing, and I couldn't account for
it.