I. A. R. Wylie

“ At night they grew blacker and stronger, but night and day they were there—servants of the red lamp, whose flame burnt up to God in unceasing worship. Two high brass candlesticks kept guard at the entrance of the sanctuary, but they had never been lit. They were dead—the lamp was a living presence.
When men came before its light, their hearts grew big with a strange grief; the ghosts of all the years laid their finger upon their lips.
The little Stefan awoke as if from a dream, and heard his grandfather's voice speaking to him. ”

“ Death was just a shadow that faded in the steady light of God. And he, Michael Gregorovitch, had kept that light burning as it had been given him. Those unseen ones who had gone before him would give him their comfort. They would make him strong. They would hold up his failing hands, as Aaron had held up the hands of Moses—until Stefan came.
He knelt, and his eyes burnt with the fire of youth, and the faded golden vestments shone with their first splendour. ”

“ And when that was done the Prince knelt down before the altar and gave up his spirit to God."
"And he was forgiven?" little Stefan whispered.
"Yes. God forgave him."
"Is God pleased that the lamp has been kept alight so long."
The old man's gnarled hands were clasped against his breast, so that the veins stood out in dark swollen lines.
"It is the fire of God," he answered. "It is the little flame that God lights in the heart of every man when he is born. ”

“ They call you a good man—they say that God loves you because you are so good; but I say that you are bad—I say that you are hard and pitiless." She clung to him with frantic hands. "No, no, it is not true. Don't leave me—where are you going? Don't leave me."
He freed himself tenderly.
"The lamp must be trimmed before vespers, dear wife. Stefan shall come with me so that he shall see how it is done and why, and then when his time comes he will understand." ”

“ The little Stefan clapped his hands.
"I would rather be a soldier than a priest. I am glad my father is a soldier. Priests can only pray. Soldiers can kill wicked people."
"Soldiers put out the light that God kindled," was the answer. "A priest keeps the lamp fed."
The little Stefan stood still a moment, pensive.
"Like the lamp, before the altar, Dyed?" ”

“ And once in his life every man feels the light burning in his own breast, and knows that he must choose whether it shall burn more brightly or die out And for those who let their lamp grow dim there is a long pilgrimage, for those who put out the light there is no forgiveness. ”

“ Sorrow and death and weariness were little things—like the village lying in the plain, like the river that was so broad and swift and terrible when one stood upon the brink, and was really a thread of silver in the vast tapestry of the world. ”

“ It rose sonorously into the pale dome of the morning.
"... for the abundance of the fruits of the earth and for peaceful times, let us beseech the Lord!"
The two peasants answered "Lord have mercy upon us!" They were sturdy and heavy-browed, and in their dull coloured blouses they seemed part of the patient earth which murmured under their tread. But the white-bearded priest who towered between them was a mighty man. His shoulders were broad and terribly strong, and the deep-set eyes were brilliant as a hawk's. His golden vestments shone in the early sunlight ”

“ The priest lifted the boy and kissed him on each ruddy cheek.
"That was wrong, Stefan. See how you have frightened her! That was not kind."
"She is so slow!" The child pressed close, panting and eager. "Granny is so slow. She said I was to find you and I have found you, haven't I, Dyed? ”

“ A puff of wind arose and blew the Jong hair to a silver aureole about his head.
"God has been good to us," he said. "He has heard our prayer. We have had peace. Our good soil has not suffered. The enemy has not come——"
"May God curse him!" ”

“ The peasant did not speak till they had reached the steps before the screen, and then he stood still peering about him.
"Father—there will be only women at the service to-night...."
"Why should that be, Dmitri?"
"... but they will have drunk themselves helpless. We have shown them where Boris kept his stores. And we have news. A man crept through last night. Our armies are safe. They are making a stand. They will attack—in a few hours, they may be here again." He clutched nervously at the priest's arm. "Ivan has buried ammunition and guns. ”