on high which should burst their darkness and silence.

To most of them there was nothing sacrilegious in the pretensions which
could be read into the closely scriptured discourse of Dylks when he
preached the second time in the Temple. The affability which he used in
descending from the pulpit among them, and shaking hands and hailing them
Brother and Sister, and personally bidding each come to the mercy seat,
convinced them of his authority; no common man would so fearlessly trust
his dignity among those who had little of their own. They thronged upon
him gladly, and the women, old and young alike, trembled before him with a
strange joy.

"Where is your father, Sister Gillespie?" he demanded of the girl, who
wavered in his strong voice like a plant in the wind.

"I don't know--he's at home," she said.

"See that he comes, another time. I send him my peace, and tell him that
it will not return to me. Say that I said he needs me."

He went out between Enraghty and Hingston, and as they walked away, he
sank his voice back in words of Scripture; farther away he began his hymn:

"Plunged in a gulf of dark despair,
We wretched sinners lay"--

and ended with his shout of "Salvation!"