ing to tell all these people what she had seen: of trying to make them understand how her misery and mourning had been changed to joy. Her knees were shaking and when the prayer was over she sat with downcast eyes, while Andrew announced that on the night after her son was buried, Mary Pinesett, a fallen member, had experienced a deep conviction of sin. She did not wait to seek forgiveness, but started to pray that very night, and had prayed on without a drop of water to drink, without a crumb of bread to eat until a vision had come before her mortal eyes. She was here to-night to tell the deacons this vision.
When she got to her feet to speak, the room grew so quiet she could hear her own quickened breath. She was very hoarse and her first words were low and trembling, but as soon as they cleared the way, others that were steady rushed in and loosened her tongue. She was back in the pine woods, seeking, praying, crying in the night. She could hear Unex speaking again, but now his voice was no voice from the grave but an angel's voice from Heaven.
A strange power seized her and held her and she spoke with a new, quickened tongue. Instead of looking first at one deacon, then at another she hardly took her eyes from Andrew's
