you for what you are doing. They are afraid of you--they will crush you
if they can."

He did not reply.

"But you are going to speak the truth," she continued, her voice low and
vibrating, "that is splendid! It must have its effect, no matter what
happens."

"Do you feel that?" he asked, taking a step toward her.

"Yes. When I see you, I feel it, I think." . . .

Whatever answer he might have made to this was frustrated by the
appearance of the figure of Nelson Langmaid in the doorway. He seemed
to survey them benevolently through his spectacles.

"How are you, Hodder? Well, Alison, I have to leave without seeing
anything of you--you must induce your father not to bring his business
home with him. Just a word," he added to the rector, "before you go up."

Hodder turned to Alison. "Good night," he said.

The gentle but unmistakable pressure of her hand he interpreted as the
pinning on him of the badge of her faith. He was to go into battle
wearing her colours. Their eyes met.

"Good night," she answered . . . .

In the hall the lawyer took his arm.