quite different from his gentle laughter. "Young Everett, of all the people you have seen, is there one whom you would wish to have even a moment of the tortures of hell?"
Nathaniel looked at him horrified. "Why, no!" he cried indignantly.
"Then do you think your God less merciful than you?"
Nathaniel stared long into the steady eyes. "Oh, do you mean it is not true? He leaned close in an agony of hope. "Sometimes I have thought it could not be true!"
The old soldier struck him on the shoulder inspiritingly, his weather-beaten face very grave. "Aye, lad, I mean it is not true. I am an old man and I have learned that they lie who say it is true. There is no hell but in our own hearts when we do evil; and we can escape a way out of that by repenting and doing good. There is no devil but our evil desires, and God gives to every man strength to fight with those. There is only good in your love for the fair things God made and put into the world for us to love. No man but only your own heart can tell you what is wrong and what is right. Only do not fear, for all is well."
The scene was never to fade from Nathaniel Everett's eyes. In all the after crises of his life the solemn words rang in his ears.
The old man suddenly smiled at him, all quaint drollery again. "And now wait." He put hand to mouth and hallooed down the lane. "Ho there! LeMaury!"
As the Frenchman came into sight, the old man turned to Nathaniel, "Is this the gentleman who painted your willows?"
