for them.
Would you be paid twice?"

"No," cried the man, with deepening dismay, "I dare not claim
that.
I acknowledge that I considered my own interest too much. But
surely
not altogether. You have said that these things were not
foolishly done.
They accomplished some good in the world. Does not that count
for something?"

"Yes," answered he Keeper of the Gate, "it counts in the
world--where you
counted it. But it does not belong to you here. We have saved
and used
everything that you sent us. This is the mansion prepared for
you."

As he spoke, his look grew deeper and more searching, like a
flame of fire.
John Weightman could not endure it. It seemed to strip him naked

and wither him. He sank to the ground under a crushing weight of
shame,
covering his eyes with his hands and cowering face downward
upon the stones. Dimly through the trouble of his mind he felt
their
hardness and coldness.