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name
and his principles in his son。 It was a bitter disappointment；
and he felt that he had not deserved it。
He rose from the chair and paced the room with leaden feet。
For the first time in his life his age was visibly upon him。
His head was heavy and hot； and the thoughts that rolled in it
were confused and depressing。 Could it be that he had made a
mistake
in the principles of his existence？ There was no argument in
what Harold had saidit was almost childishand yet
it had shaken the elder man more deeply than he cared to show。
It held a silent attack which touched him more than open
criticism。
Suppose the end of his life were nearer than he thoughtthe end
must come some timewhat if it were now？ Had he not
founded his house upon a rock？ Had he not kept the Commandments？
Was he not； 〃touching the law； blameless〃？ And beyond this；
even if there were some faults in his characterand all men are
sinners
yet he surely believed in the saving doctrines of religionthe
forgiveness
of sins； the resurrection of the body； the life everlasting。
Yes； that was the true source of comfort； after all。 He would
read a bit
in the Bible； as he did every night； and go to bed and to sleep。
He went back to his chair at the library table。 A strange weight
of
weariness rested upon him； but he opened the book at a familiar
place；
and his eyes fell upon the verse at the bottom of the page。
〃Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth。〃
That had been the text of the sermon a few weeks before。
Sleepily； heavily； he tried to fix his mind upon it and recall
it。
What was it that Doctor Snodgrass had said？ Ah； yesthat it was
a mistake to pause here in reading the verse。 We must read on
without
a pauseLay not up treasures upon earth where moth and rust do
corrupt
and where thieves break through and stealthat was the true
doctrine。
We may have treasures upon earth； but they must not be put into
unsafe places； but into safe places。 A most comforting doctrine！
He had always followed it。 Moths and rust and thieves had done
no harm
to his investments。
John Weightman's drooping eyes turned to the next verse；
at the top of the second column。
〃But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven。〃
Now what had the Doctor said about that？ How was it to
be understoodin what sensetreasuresin heaven？
The book seemed to float away from him。 The light vanished。
He wondered dimly if this could be Death； coming so suddenly； so
quietly；
so irresistibly。 He struggled for a moment to hold himself up；
and then sank slowly forward upon the table。 His head rested
upon
his folded hands。 He slipped into the unknown。
How long afterward conscious life returned to him he did not
know。
The blank might have been an hour or a century。 He knew only
that
omething had happened in the interval。 What is was he could not
tell。
He found great difficulty in catching the thread of his identity
again。
He felt that he was himself； but the trouble was to make his
connections；
to verify and place himself； to know who and where he was。
At last it grew clear。 John Weightman was sitting on a stone；
not far from a road in a strange land。
The road was not a formal highway； fenced and graded。 It was
more like
a great travel…trace； worn by thousands of feet passing across
the open country in the same direction。 Down in the valley；
into which he could look； the road seemed to form itself
gradually out of
many minor paths； little footways coming across the meadows；
winding tracks following along beside the streams； faintly marked
trails
emerging from the woodlands。 But on the hillside the threads
were more
firmly woven into one clear band of travel； though there were
still
a few dim paths joining it here and there； as if persons had been
climbing up the hill by other ways and had turned at last to seek
the road。
From the edge of the hill； where John Weightman sat； he could see
the travelers； in little groups or larger companies； gathering
from
time to time by the different paths； and making the ascent。
They were all clothed in white； and the form of their garments
was
strange to him； it was like some old picture。 They passed him；
group after group； talking quietly together or singing； not
moving
in haste； but with a certain air of eagerness and joy as if they
were
glad to be on their way to an appointed place。 They did not stay
to
speak to him； but they looked at him often and spoke to one
another
as they looked； and now and then one of them would smile and
beckon him a friendly greeting； so that he felt they would like
him
to be with them。
There was quite an interval between the groups； and he followed
each of them with his eyes after it had passed； blanching the
long ribbon of the road for a little transient space； rising and
receding
across the wide； billowy upland； among the rounded hillocks of
aerial green and gold and lilac； until it came to the high
horizon；
and stood outlined for a moment； a tiny cloud of whiteness
against
the tender blue； before it vanished over the hill。
For a long time he sat there watching and wondering。 It was
a very different world from that in which his mansion on the
Avenue
was built； and it looked strange to him； but most realas real
as
anything he had ever seen。 Presently he felt a strong desire
to know what country it was and where the people were going。
He had a faint premonition of what it must be； but he wished to
be sure。
So he rose from the stone where he was sitting； and came down
through
the short grass and the lavender flowers； toward a passing group
of people。
One of them turned to meet him； and held out his hand。 It was an
old man；
under whose white beard and brows John Weightman thought he saw
a suggestion of the face of the village doctor who had cared for
him
years ago； when he was a boy in the country。
〃Welcome；〃 said the old man。 〃Will you come with us？〃
〃Where are you going？〃
〃To the heavenly city； to see our mansions there。〃
〃And who are these with you？〃
〃Strangers to me； until a little while ago； I know them better
now。
But you I have known for a long time； John Weightman。 Don't you
remember
your old doctor？〃
〃Yes；〃 he cried〃yes； your voice has not changed at all。
I'm glad indeed to see you； Doctor McLean； especially now。
All this seems very strange to me； almost oppressive。
I wonder ifbut may I go with you； do you suppose？〃
〃Surely；〃 answered the doctor； with his familiar smile； 〃it will
do you good。 And you also must have a mansion in the city
waiting
for youa fine one； tooare you not looking forward to it？〃
〃Yes；〃 replied the other； hesitating a moment； 〃yesI believe
it must be so； although I had not expected to see it so soon。
But I will go with you； and we can talk by the way。〃
The two men quickly caught up with the other people； and all went
forward
together along the road。 The doctor had little to tell of his
experience；
for it had been a plain； hard life； uneventfully spent for
others；
and the story of the village was very simple。 John Weightman's
adventures
and triumphs would have made a far richer； more imposing history；
full of contacts with the great events and personages of the
time。
But somehow or other he did not care to speak much about it；
walking on that wide heavenly moorland； under that tranquil；
sunless arch of blue； in that free air of perfect peace； where
the light
was diffused without a shadow； as if the spirit of life in all
things
were luminous。
There was only one person besides the doctor in that little
company whom
John Weightman had known beforean old bookkeeper who had spent
his life
over a desk； carefully keeping accountsa rusty； dull little
man；
patient and narrow； whose wife had been in the insane asylum for
twenty years and whose only child was a crippled daughter； for
whose
comfort and happiness he had toiled and sacrificed himself
without stint。
It was a surprise to find him here； as care…free and joyful as
the rest。
The lives of others in the company were revealed in brief
glimpses
as they talked togethera mother； early widowed； who had kept
her little flock of children together and labored through hard
and heavy
years to bring them up in purity and knowledgea Sister of
Charity
who had devoted herself to the nursing of poor folk who were
being
eaten to death by cancera schoolmaster whose heart and life
had been poured into his quiet work of training boys for a clean
and
thoughtful manhooda medical missionary who had given up
a brilliant career in science to take the charge of a hospital