in the vehement mockery of his aunt； it had rung； so oddly； in Roy’s voice thisafternoon； and when Elisha played the piano it was there； it was in the beat and jangle of SisterMcCandless’s tambourine； it was in the very cadence of her testimony； and invested that testimonywith a matchless； unimpeachable authority。 Yes； he had heard it all his life； but it was only nowthat his ears were open to this sound that came from darkness； that could only e from darkness；that yet bore such sure witness to the glory of the light。 And now in this moaning； and so far fromany help； he heard it in himself—it rose from his bleeding； his cracked open heart。 It was a soundof rage and weeping which filled the grave； rage and weeping from time set free； but bound now iernity； rage that had no language； weeping with no voice—which yet spoke now； to John’sstartled soul； of boundless melancholy； of the bitterest patience； and the longest night； of thedeepest water； the strongest chains； the most cruel lash； of humility most wretched； the dungeonmost absolute； of love’s bed defiled； and birth dishonored； and most bloody； unspeakable； suddendeath。 Yes； the darkness hummed with murder： the body in the water； the body in the fire； the bodyon the tree。 John looked down the line of these armies of darkness； army upon army； and his soulwhispered： Who are these？ Who are they？ And wondered： Where shall I go？
There was no answer。 There was no help or healing in the grave； no answer in the darkness；no speech from all that pany。 They looked backward。 And John looked back； seeing nodeliverance。
I； John saw the future； way up in the middle of the air。
Were the lash； the dungeon； and the night for him？ And the sea for him？ And the grave forhim？
I； John saw a number； way in the mid