He looked down at the girl, trembling, brave, white, beside him; and he

felt like gathering her in his arms and hiding her himself, such a frail,

brave, courageous little soul she seemed. But the calm nerve with which

she had shot the serpent was gone now. He saw she was trembling and ready

to cry. Then he smiled upon her, a smile the like of which he had never

given to human being before; at least, not since he was a tiny baby and

smiled confidingly into his mother's face. Something in that smile was

like sunshine to a nervous chill.

The girl felt the comfort of it, though she still trembled. Down her eyes

drooped to the paper in her shaking hands. Then gradually, letter by

letter, word by word, the verse spoke to her. Not all the meaning she

gathered, for "pavilion" and "tabernacle" were unknown words to her, but

the hiding she could understand. She had been hidden in her time of

trouble. Some one had done it. "He"--the word would fit the man by her

side, for he had helped to hide her, and to save her more than once; but

just now there came a dim perception that it was some other He, some One

greater who had worked this miracle and saved her once more to go on

perhaps to better things.

There were many things said in that meeting, good and wise and true. They

might have been helpful to the girl if she had understood, but her

thoughts had much to do. One grain of truth she had gathered for her

future use. There was a "hiding" somewhere in this world, and she had had

it in a time of trouble. One moment more out upon the open, and the

terrible man might have seen her.

There came a time of prayer in which all heads were bowed, and a voice

here and there murmured a few soft little words which she did not

comprehend; but at the close they all joined in "the prayer"; and, when

she heard the words, "Our Father," she closed her eyes, which had been

curiously open and watching, and joined her voice softly with the rest.

Somehow it seemed to connect her safety with "our Father," and she felt a

stronger faith than ever in her prayer.

The young man listened intently to all he heard. There was something

strangely impressive to him in this simple worship out in what to him was

a vast wilderness. He felt more of the true spirit of worship than he had

ever felt at home sitting in the handsomely upholstered pew beside his

mother and sister while the choir-boys chanted the processional and the

light filtered through costly windows of many colors over the large and

cultivated congregation. There was something about the words of these

people that went straight to the heart more than all the intonings of the

cultured voices he had ever heard. Truly they meant what they said, and

God had been a reality to them in many a time of trouble. That seemed to

be the theme of the afternoon, the saving power of the eternal God, made

perfect through the need and the trust of His people. He was reminded more

than once of the incident of the morning and the miraculous saving of his

own and his companion's life.




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