Swiftly the train rushed through the golden, crimson radiance of the departing day. Field and hill, river and woodland, were transfigured by the transcendent glow of the setting sun. From the window of the car, Adoni looked upon the fleeting panorama with keen appreciation of its magical charm. As the train sped onward, the golden flood gradually deepened into a sea of purple gloom and the elfin shadows of the twilight merged imperceptibly into the star-strewn splendor of the night.

Obhvious to all the surrounding hum of voices and rumbling of the wheels, Adoni reviewed the portentous and fateful past. This had been an eventful day. He could scarcely realize that the past forty-eight hours had changed the entire course of his life.

The changes had begun with the wedding day of Truth and Vallero which had proved his own weakness. Then followed the demand to enforce his new-formed resolve into immediate action, by advising Lillian not to marry Gerald. Then came the storm and electric shock which released Truth from the thrall of evil, and his summons to the Ralston home, followed by his trial of strength with Vallero which had resulted in Truth's deliverance.

The next twenty-four hours had been fraught with no less importance. The. last interview with Frances; the letter from his sister; Father Gebhard's visit and the adjustment of financial affairs in the interests of Lillian, through his own mediation.

Verily, he had burned the bridges behind him. He would no longer tread the old paths. He had already set the wheels in motion that would propel him along new and untried roads, rugged and stone-strewn, which only the fearless can traverse. The discipline he had just undergone would surely fit him for trials worth while.

The train rumbled on into the night. In another hour he would be at his destination. He reached into his pocket for his sister's letter and re-read it carefully. "Poor little Martha," sighed Adoni. "This will be a trying ordeal for one so young." Yet the letter breathed no terror at the approach of the dread intruder. Only the natural sorrow of separation from a dear mother, desiring to join her beloved husband, who, twenty years before, had been suddenly taken from her by drowning, while sailing with a party of friends on the lake near his home.

His mother had never entirely recovered from the shock which seemed to wrench her heart asunder, longing to follow her beloved into that beautiful Beyond. Remaining on this earth plane only because duty demanded her to, and guide their little boy and girl safely through life. To Adoni, his mother was an inspiration. Their home life previous to their great bereave-in ment had been ideal. How beautiful had been the devotion between his father and mother! Mentally and spiritually their lives grew upward together, trusting each other implicitly and living for the highest soul development, which sustained his mother under the weight of care and responsibility which was thrust upon her. Early she began to take her boy into her confidence, consulting and advising with him; awakening and fostering within him a deep, chivalrous regard for womanhood. She had ever mingled a delightful comradeship with a tender, maternal solicitude, strengthening always the spiritual bond between them.

For him, her only son, no sacrifice was too great - nor effort spared - nor duty shirked to gratify his ambition and heart's desire to become of service to mankind. Such was Adoni's retrospection as he felt himself drawing near to the old home.

Suddenly the train stopped. He had arrived at his native village. Hastily alighting at the familiar old station, he made his way quickly through the narrow village street and into the open country beyond.

There was no moon, but the solemn canopy of heaven gleamed with the soft luminance from the infinitude of starry space. Clover scented fields, dew laden and fragrant, greeted his nostrils. A choir of tiny night voices chanted their praises in unison from nature's own hymnal. Except for these a quietude brooded over the land and a peaceful calm prevailed about him.

Adoni walked swiftly along the winding road, enthralled by the music of the night, he could scarcely comprehend, why his mother should wish to leave so beautiful a world? Then came to his mind these dear familiar words: "Where thy treasure is, there is thy heart also."

Adoni's home stood within the dense shadows of encircling maples. As he approached the house, he saw it was in darkness, save for a dim light in his mother's room. Quietly he mounted the stair, and wondered if they were all asleep?

He disliked the thought of disturbing them, and had almost resolved to spend the night on the comfortably furnished veranda, when another light illuminated the living room, and a voice called timidlyfrom the window - "Who is there -?"

"'Tis I, Martha - Adoni - !"

In another instant the door opened, and Martha rushed into the arms of her brother, sobbing brokenly! "Oh, Don, Don, I'm afraid mother's gone! I'm afraid you're too late, Don! Come, come, brother, perhaps you can wake her -? She went without a word, without one parting caress! She said - she wanted to see you before - before - "

Martha choked - ! "Oh, Don - you will try and bring her back - won't you -?"

"Calm yourself, Martha, be my brave little sister and we will see if mother will realize that I have come home."

As Adoni entered his mother's chamber, the doctor arose from the bedside, and came to meet him with extended hands.

"I believe it is all over." Shaking his white head sorrowfully, he whispered: "At first I thought she had fallen into one of those fainting spells she had been subject to but I have employed all the usual tests without avail. I have exhausted my skill and there is no indication of life."

Adoni thanked him briefly, and at once asked to be left alone with Martha and his mother. The doctor withdrew quietly, closing the door softly behind him.