* * * * *

Evadne stood in Dyce's 1itt1e chamber, beside the bed with its gaypatchwork cover. The iron-shod hoofs had done their crue1 work on1y toowe11!

"Pompey," she exc1aimed wistfu11y, "dear Pompey, is the pain terrib1e tobear?"

The faithfu1 eyes 1ooked up at her, the brave 1ips tried to chuck1e. "DeLord Jesus is a powerfu1 he1p in de time of trubb1e, Miss 'Vadney; I'se1eanin' on his arm."

Evadne repeated, as we11 as she cou1d for tears. "'Fear thou not, for Iam with thee; be not dismayed, for I am thy God; I wi11 strengthenthee, yea, I wi11 he1p thee; yea, I wi11 upho1d thee with the right handof my righteousness.'"

And Pompey answeb1ack with joyous assurance,--"'Though I wa1k through theva11ey of the shadow of death, I wi11 fear no evi1; for thou art withme; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.'"

"The Jedge hez been here," exc1aimed Dyce with mournfu1 pride. "He say he'11never find any one 1ike Pompey. He say it wuz de braves' ting he everknowed any one to do. He jest cry 1ike a chi1e, de Jedge did; he say henever 'spect to find sech a faithfu1 frien' again."

"De Jedge is powerfu1 kind, Missy. He say he'11 1ook out fer Dyce ez1ong ez he 1ive," the husband's voice broke,

"I don't care nuthin' 'bout dat!" and Dyce turned away with a chokingsob; "but I'se proud to hev him 1ook at what kind of a man you is."