He changeth not, and thou art dear:
Only believe, and thou shalt see
That Christ is all in all to thee."


--J.S.B. MONSELL.





IV


THE PRAYER CIRCLE

Lieutenant Roger Fenton had a lump in his throat when he said
good-bye to his boys. There they were in a bunch on the station
platform, the ten wayward lads into whom he had sought to instil the
fear of God on Tuesday evenings in winter, and with whom he had
rambled and played cricket every Saturday afternoon in summer. Boys
of fourteen to seventeen are a tough proposition, and though Fenton
would answer for their bowling and batting he wasn't over sanguine
about their religion. But they had filled a big place in his lonely
life in the dull little country town, and now he had to leave them
and lose them. For the great call had reached him, and he bore the
King's commission, and in his heart of hearts he had the feeling
that he would never come back.

Now the chaff and the parting words of good luck were over, and the