Oh, I'm saved! I'm saved!' And he remained standing in an ecstasy, looking to the sky above the Scout, where the red sunset glow still lingered.
'Hallelujah! hallelujah! Thanks be to God!' cried the prayer-leader, and the smithy resounded in the growing darkness with similar shouts.

David was almost choking with excitement.

He would have given worlds to spring to Tom Mullins's side and proclaim the same faith.

But the inmost heart of him, his real self, seemed to him at this testing moment something dead and cold.
No heavenly voice spoke to _him_, David Grieve.

A genuine pang of religious despair seized him.