she saw how she had depended on the priest of domrémy, as he had been the lawgiver and the leader of her life. a spiritual life, to be sustained only by the invisible spirit, to be lived by faith, not in man, but in god, without intervention of saint or angel or blessed virgin,was the worlds life liberated by such freedom? by faith, and not by sight, the just must live. would he bow his heavens and come down to dwell with the contrite and the humble? wondrous strange it seemed,incomprehensible,more than she could manage or control. there are prisoners whose pardon proves the world too large for them: they find no rest until their prison-door is opened for them again. of this class was elsie,not jacqueline. elsie was afraid of freedom,not equal to it,unable to deal with it; satisfied with being a child, with being a slave, when it came to be a question whether she should accept and use her highest privilege and dignity. at this hour, and among all persuasions, you will find that elsie does not stand alone. little children there are, long as the world shall stand,though not precisely such as we think of when we remember, of such is the kingdom of heaven. it was enough for elsieit is enough for multitudes through all the reformationsthat she had an earthly defence, even such as she relied on without trouble. she lived in the hour. she had never toiled to deliver her darling from the lions,to redeem a soul from purgatory. she eased her conscience, when it was troubled, by such shallow discovery of herself as she deemed confession. she loved dancing, and all other amusements,hated solitude, knew not the meaning of self-abnegation. and let her dance and enjoy herself!some service to the body is rendered thereby. she might do greatly worse, and is incapable of doing greatly better. will you stint the idiots of comfort,or rather build them decent habitations, and even vex yourself to feed and clothe them, in reverent confidence that the future shall surely take them up and bless them, unstop their ears, open their eyes, give speech to them and absolute deliverance? there are others beside elsie who congratulate themselves on non-committal,they covet not the advanced and dangerous positions. honorable, but dangerous positions! the head might be taken off, do you not see? and could all eternity compensate for the loss of time? ah, the body might be mutilated,the liberty restrained: as if, indeed, a mans freedom were not eternally established, when his enemies, howling around, must at least crucify him! as if a divine voice were not ever heard through the raging of the people, saying, come up higher! but a fern-leaf cannot grow into a mighty hemlock-tree. from the ashes of a sparrow the phoenix shall not rise. you will not to all eternity, by any artificial means, nor by a miracle, bring forth an eagle from a mollusk. there was not a sadder heart in all those fields of meaux than the heart of jacqueline gabrie. there was not a stronger heart. not a hand labored more diligently. under the broad-brimmed peasant-hat was a sad countenance,under the peasant-dress a heavily burdened spirit. silent, all day, she labored. she was alone at noon under the river-bordered trees, eating her coarse fare without zest, but with a conscience,to sustain the body that was born to toil. but in the maelström of doubt and anxiety was she tossed and whirled, and she cared not for her life. to be rid of it, now for the first time, she felt might be a blessing. what purpose, indeed, had she? she turned her thought from this question, but it would not let her alone. again and yet again she turned to meet it, and thus would surely have at length its satisfying answer. john leclerc might pass through this ordeal, as from the first she had expected of him. but she listened to the speech of many of her fellow-laborers. some prophecies which had a sound incredible escaped them. she did not credit them, but they tormented her. they contended with one another. john, some foretold, would certainly retract. one day of public whipping would suffice. when the blood began to flow, he would see his duty clearer! the men were prophesying from the depths and the abundance of their self-consciousness. others speculated on the final result of the executed sentence. they believed that the obstinacy and courage of the man would provoke his judges, and the executors of his sentence,that with rigor they would execute it,and that, led on by passion, and provoked by such as would side with the victim, the sentence would terminate in his destruction. sooner or later, nothing but his life would be found ultimately to satisfy his enemies. it might be so, thought jacqueline gabrie. what then? what then?she thought. there was inspiration to the girl in that cruel prophecy. her lifework was not ended. if christ was the one ransom, and it did truly fall on him, and not on her, to care for those beloved, departed from this life, her work was still for love. john leclerc disabled or dead, who should care then for his aged mother? who should minister to him? who, indeed, but jacqueline? living or dying, she said to herself, with grand enthusiasm,living or dying, let him do the masters pleasure! she also was here to serve that master; and while in spiritual things he fed the hungry, clothed the naked, gave the cup of living water, visited the imprisoned, and the sick of sin, she would bind herself to minister to him and his old mother in temporal things; so should he live above all cares save those of heavenly love. she could support them all by her diligence, and in this there would be joy. she thought this through her toil; and the thought was its own reward. it strengthened her like an angel,strengthened heart and faith. she labored as no other peasant-woman did that day,like a beast of burden, unresisting, patient,like a holy saint, so peaceful and assured, so conscious of the present very god! [to be continued