Barnabas. "Even though the evil remain?"

The Preacher. "Ay, young sir, for then Forgiveness becomes truly

divine."

Barnabas. "Hum!"

The Preacher. "But you eat nothing, young sir."

Barnabas. "I was thinking."

The Preacher. "Of what?"

Barnabas. "Sir, my thought embraced you."

The Preacher. "How, young sir?"

Barnabas. "I was wondering if you had ever heard of a man named

Chichester?"

The Preacher (speaking brokenly, and in a whisper). "Sir!--young

sir,--you said--?"

Barnabas (rising). "Chichester!"

The Preacher (coming to his knees). "Sir,--oh, sir,--this

man--Chichester is he who stole away--my daughter,--who blasted her

honor and my life,--who--"

Barnabas. "No!"

The Preacher (covering his face). "Yes,--yes! God help me, it's true!

But in her shame I love her still, oh, my pride is dead long ago. I

remember only that I am her father, with all a father's loving pity,

and that she--"

Barnabas. "And that she is the stainless maid she always was--"

"Sir," cried the Preacher, "oh, sir,--what do you mean?" and

Barnabas saw the thin hands clasp and wring themselves, even as he

remembered Clemency's had done.

"I mean," answered Barnabas, "that she fled from pollution, and

found refuge among honest folk. I mean that she is alive and well,

that she lives but to bless your arms and feel a father's kiss of

forgiveness. If you would find her, go to the 'Spotted Cow,' near

Frittenden, and ask for 'Clemency'!"

"Clemency!" repeated the Preacher, "Clemency means mercy. And she

called herself--Clemency!" Then, with a sudden, rapturous gesture,

he lifted his thin hands, and with his eyes upturned to the blue

heaven, spoke.

"Oh, God!" he cried, "Oh, Father of Mercy, I thank Thee!" And so he

arose from his knees, and turning about, set off through the golden

morning towards Frittenden, and Clemency.




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