In the peace and quiet of the night, Denny's garden wrought
its mystery. In the little room that looked out upon the monument and
the garden, Dan--all unknowing--slept.
And over all brooded the spirit that lives in Corinth--the Ally--that
dread, mysterious thing that never sleeps.
CHAPTER IX.
THE EDGE OP THE BATTLEFIELD
"But it was as if his superior officers had ordered him to mark time,
while his whole soul was eager for the command to charge."
Dan was trying to prepare his evening sermon for the third Sunday of what
the old Doctor called his Corinthian ministry. The afternoon was half
gone, when he arose from his study table. All day he had been at it, and
all day the devils of dissatisfaction had rioted in his soul--or wherever
it is that such devils are supposed to riot.
The three weeks had not been idle weeks for Dan. He had made many
pastoral calls at the homes of his congregation; he had attended
numberless committee meetings. Already he was beginning to feel the
tug of his people's need--the world old need of sympathy and inspiration,
of courage and cheer; the need of the soldier for the battle-cry of his
comrades, the need of the striving runner for the lusty shout of his
friends, the need of the toiling servant for the "well-done" of his
master.
Keenly sensitive to this great unvoiced cry of life, the young man
answered in his heart, "Here am I, use me." Standing before his people
he felt as one who, on the edge of a battlefield longs, with all his
heart, to throw himself into the fight.
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