God keeps His beloved was hers; for did she not trust in Him, and was there not in Him everlasting strength?

The words fell upon other ears than Irene's with a strange prophetic power. Just outside the choir door Forster Williamson was standing, with his face so troubled and so changed from its usual bright expression that the vergers, keeping watch with their rods of office in their hands, looked curiously at him, as they passed him on their patrol from transept to transept. At last the organ began the concluding voluntary, the choir door opened, and the congregation came out into the nave. One by one they passed Forster Williamson, and at last Irene came. On her face seemed to linger the reflex of the peace of which the choir had sung. Her brotherin-law looked at her, but she did not see him. She went down the long nave, and he followed with Randal. Randal touched his father's arm.

"What is it, father?"—for he saw that something was amiss. "What is it, father?"

But he strode on to the door, through which Irene had just passed, as if he dare not trust himself to speak, and laying his hand on her arm, said,—

"Irene, I have something to tell you, dear. Come with me now.'

CHAPTER XIV.

"DE PROFUNDIS."

"THE heart which like a staff was one
For mine to lean and rest upon;

The strongest, on the longest day,
With steadfast love, is caught away,
And yet my days go on, go on.

"I praise Thee while my days go on,
I love Thee while my days go on,
Through dark and dearth, through fire and frost,
With emptied arms, and treasure lost,

I thank Thee while my days go on."

E. B. BROWNING.

IRENE stopped, and turned to Forster with a questioning appealing look.

"Is it the children? Is my baby ill ?"

"No; but there has been an accident, and Philip is hurt. I have a carriage ready; I will take you to Rockdeane at once."

"Philip !"

Only that one word.

Then she clasped her hands in mute appeal, while her face was blanched to death-like paleness, and involuntarily she caught at her brother's arm for support.

"This way," he said, "dear Irene. The carriage is

waiting by the south gate of the Close "-for she seemed powerless to guide herself, and walked as if in a troubled dream.

He dreaded lest they should attract notice, and hastened on, telling Randal to go forward and open the carriagedoor, that there might be no delay. Then he helped her in, and seated himself beside her, taking the small cold hand in his. He had no great comfort to give her, or how gladly would he have spoken, and she seemed to feel it instinctively. Presently she spoke :

"Tell me, Forster, please, everything-he is alive-I shall see him."

"Yes, dear; but-"

Poor Forster's voice was choked, and he felt the little hand tighten its grasp on his.

"How was it? try to tell me.

thing !"

I wish to know every

Oh, the childlike earnestness with which she spoke. Her voice, like the voice of one in great agony, which was with an effort calmly and patiently endured.

Forster Williamson rallied his energies, and told his sad story :

"We were all coming back from shooting, this afternoon, when Sir Jasper said he was done up, and Philip suggested that we should cross the stream by the lower bridge, and come up the Rockdeane grounds that way. The upper bridge was washed away last night. In the morning we went round by the moor. You know the stream was swollen by the late rain, and that to-day it is more like a river."

"I know," she said; "it was dreadful. I saw it this morning"-and she shuddered, and closed her eyes, as if to shut out the sight of those angry waters.

"Go on, please, Forster; God will help me to bear it."

"When we reached the bridge, Philip was ahead of us, and passed over with the keepers and Mr. Farrant, the bailiff; I was left on the other side, with Sir Jasper. 'Keep a steady head,' Philip called out, as I put my foot on the bridge; 'and don't look at the water, it will make you giddy, Williamson.' I went forward carefully, and thought Sir Jasper was following; but when I reached the opposite bank he was still standing where I had left him. Come on, Jasper,' Philip said; and don't stand ruminating; it is better not to deliberate in a case like this.' But Sir Jasper hesitated. 'I shall fall in if I try to come. My head wouldn't stand it.' At least that is what I think he said; but his voice was lost in the sound of the waters, though Philip's rang clear above it. 'I shall have to come back for you, I suppose,' Philip said. 'Be a man, Jasper, and come by yourself.' I think something like pity, and perhaps contempt too, for the miserable indecision Sir Jasper showed, moved Philip to go to his assistance. He did look pitiable enough as he stood there, and at last made a few steps in advance, clinging to the railing with one hand, his gun in the other. Philip put down his gun and game-bag, which was full and heavy, and called out to Sir Jasper to stop till he reached him. He was half way over, and had just caught Sir Jasper's hand in his, when-whether his head gave way, or what, I can't say with a shrill cry Sir Jasper fell into the water, his gun going off at the same moment, for he was carrying it loaded. Philip we thought had fallen too; but it was not so. He had thrown himself into the seething, boiling current to save that helpless figure, which we now saw struggling against the stream, and rapidly carried

down. Once he sank, and Philip, too, disappeared; and then Mr. Farrant and I saw him rise far below, battling with the water. A great boulder of rock stopped their downward course; and as Tarrant and I rushed with the keeper to the bank, we heard Philip's voice,—' I have him safe.' Such a triumphant voice it was."

Forster Williamson stopped, and covered his face Iwith his hand. "In another minute, Philip was near enough for us to help him, and Sir Jasper was safe on the bank. We expected to see Philip make for the shore; but when Sir Jasper's hold was relaxed he fell back, and the stream swept him down to the great rock again with relentless force. The keeper waded up to it, for the water was shallow there, though very tumultuous and strong, and dragged Philip out. Then we knew first the extent of the mischief; he had a gun-shot wound in his left arm, and was insensible from loss of blood with the almost miraculous exertions he had made to save Sir Jasper."

"It was like his heroic noble nature," Forster added, passionately. "Now I have told you all, Irene."

66

there

Everything?" she asked; then, after a pause: "Is any hope?"

"The doctors were with him when I left Rockdeane,” he answered. "As far as I could gather, there was more to fear than to hope."

During the remainder of the drive, Irene was silent. Forster wished she would burst into weeping, or some outward expression of distress; but such natures as hers, pierced in the very tenderest part, make no great demonstration in their hour of need. When at last the carriage stopped before the door, Irene loosened her hold of Forster's hand, and gave one short cry of exceeding