back and picked it up. “How long a line shall I draw, my lord?” I asked with a smile.

“How does the length of the door strike you?” he answered.

I drew the chalk from top to bottom of the wood. “A heavy Core makes a heavy reckoning, my lord,” I said, and, leaving the mark upon the door, I bowed again and went out into the street.

The sun was sinking when I reached the minister’s house, and going into the great room drew a stool to the table and sat down to think. Mistress Percy was in her own chamber; in the room overhead the minister paced up and down, humming a psalm. A fire was burning briskly upon the hearth, and the red light rose and fell, — now brightening all the room, now leaving it to the