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its star jewels； sprang like the roof of a great cathedral from
range to range； covering us in its kindly shelter。 How homelike
and safe seemed the valley with its mountain…sides； its sentinel
trees and arching roof of jewelled sky！ Even the night seemed
kindly； and friendly the stars； and the lone cry of the wolf from
the deep forest seemed like the voice of a comrade。
'How beautiful！ too beautiful！' said Graeme； stretching out his
arms。 'A night like this takes the heart out of me。'
I stood silent； drinking in at every sense the night with its
wealth of loveliness。
'What is it I want？' he went on。 'Why does the night make my heart
ache？ There are things to see and things to hear just beyond me； I
cannot get to them。' The gay； careless look was gone from his
face； his dark eyes were wistful with yearning。
'I often wonder if life has nothing better for me；' he continued
with his heartache voice。
I said no word； but put my arm within his。 A light appeared in the
stable。 Glad of a diversion； I said； 'What is the light？ Let us
go and see。'
'Sandy； taking a last look at his team； like enough。'
We walked slowly toward the stable； speaking no word。 As we neared
the door we heard the sound of a voice in the monotone of one
reading。 I stepped forward and looked through a chink between the
logs。 Graeme was about to open the door； but I held up my hand and
beckoned him to me。 In a vacant stall； where was a pile of straw；
a number of men were grouped。 Sandy； leaning against the tying…
post upon which the stable…lantern hung； was reading； Nelson was
kneeling in front of him and gazing into the gloom beyond； Baptiste
lay upon his stomach； his chin in his hands and his upturned eyes
fastened upon Sandy's face； Lachlan Campbell sat with his hands
clasped about his knees； and two other men sat near him。 Sandy was
reading the undying story of the Prodigal； Nelson now and then
stopping him to make a remark。 It was a scene I have never been
able to forget。 To…day I pause in my tale； and see it as clearly
as when I looked through the chink upon it years ago。 The long；
low stable； with log walls and upright hitching…poles； the dim
outlines of the horses in the gloom of the background； and the
little group of rough； almost savage…looking men； with faces
wondering and reverent； lit by the misty light of the stable…
lantern。
After the reading； Sandy handed the book to Nelson； who put it in
his pocket； saying； 'That's for us； boys； ain't it？'
'Ay；' said Lachlan； 'it is often that has been read in my hearing；
but I am afraid it will not be for me whatever；' and he swayed
himself slightly as he spoke； and his voice was full of pain。
'The minister said I might come；' said old Nelson； earnestly and
hopefully。
'Ay； but you are not Lachlan Campbell； and you hef not had his
privileges。 My father was a godly elder in the Free Church of
Scotland； and never a night or morning but we took the Books。'
'Yes； but He said 〃any man；〃' persisted Nelson； putting his hand on
Lachlan's knee。 But Lachlan shook his head。
'Dat young feller；' said Baptiste； 'wha's hees nem； heh？'
'He has no name。 It is just a parable；' explained Sandy。
'He's got no nem？ He's just a parom'ble？ Das no young feller？'
asked Baptiste anxiously； 'das mean noting？'
Then Nelson took him in hand and explained to him the meaning；
while Baptiste listened even more eagerly； ejaculating softly； 'ah；
voila！ bon！ by gar！' When Nelson had finished he broke out； 'Dat
young feller； his name Baptiste； heh？ and de old Fadder he's le bon
Dieu？ Bon！ das good story for me。 How you go back？ You go to de
pries'？'
'The book doesn't say priest or any one else；' said Nelson。 'You
go back in yourself； you see？'
'Non； das so； sure nuff。 Ah！'as if a light broke in upon him
'you go in your own self。 You make one leetle prayer。 You say；
〃Le bon Fadder； oh！ I want come back； I so tire； so hongree； so
sorree〃？ He； say； 〃Come right 'long。〃 Ah！ das fuss…rate。 Nelson；
you make one leetle prayer for Sandy and me。'
And Nelson lifted up his face and said： 'Father； we're all gone far
away； we have spent all； we are poor； we are tired of it all； we
want to feel different； to be different； we want to come back。
Jesus came to save us from our sins； and he said if we came He
wouldn't cast us out； no matter how bad we were； if we only came to
Him。 Oh； Jesus Christ'and his old； iron face began to work； and
two big tears slowly came from under his eyelids'we are a poor
lot； and I'm the worst of the lot； and we are trying to find the
way。 Show us how to get back。 Amen。'
'Bon！' said Baptiste。 'Das fetch Him sure！'
Graeme pulled me away； and without a word we went into the office
and drew up to the little stove。 Graeme was greatly moved。
'Did you ever see anything like that？' he asked。 'Old Nelson！ the
hardest； savagest； toughest old sinner in the camp； on his knees
before a lot of men！'
'Before God；' I could not help saying； for the thing seemed very
real to me。 The old man evidently felt himself talking to some
one。
'Yes； I suppose you're right；' said Graeme doubtfully； 'but there's
a lot of stuff I can't swallow。'
'When you take medicine you don't swallow the bottle；' I replied；
for his trouble was not mine。
'If I were sure of the medicine； I wouldn't mind the bottle； and
yet it acts well enough；' he went on。 'I don't mind Lachlan； he's
a Highland mystic； and has visions； and Sandy's almost as bad； and
Baptiste is an impulsive little chap。 Those don't count much。 But
old man Nelson is a cool…blooded； level…headed old fellow； has seen
a lot of life； too。 And then there's Craig。 He has a better head
than I have； and is as hot…blooded； and yet he is living and
slaving away in that hole； and really enjoys it。 There must be
something in it。'
'Oh； look here； Graeme；' I burst out impatiently； 'what's the use
of your talking like that？ Of course there's something in it。 I
here's everything in it。 The trouble with me is I can't face the
music。 It calls for a life where a fellow must go in for straight；
steady work； self…denial； and that sort of thing； and I'm too
Bohemian for that； and too lazy。 But that fellow Craig makes one
feel horribly uncomfortable。'
Graeme put his head on one side； and examined me curiously。
'I believe you're right about yourself。 You always were a
luxurious beggar。 But that's not where it catches me。'
We sat and smoked and talked of other things for an hour； and then
turned in。 As I was dropping off I was roused by Graeme's voice
'Are you going to the preparatory service on Friday night？'
'Don't know；' I replied rather sleepily。
'I say； do you remember the preparatory service at home？' There
was something in his voice that set me wide awake。
'Yes。 Rather terrific； wasn't it？ But I always felt better after
it；' I replied。
'To me'he was sitting up in bed now'to me it was like a call to
arms； or rather like a call for a forlorn hope。 None but
volunteers wanted。 Do you remember the thrill in the old
governor's voice as he dared any but the right stuff to come on？'
'We'll go in on Fr