He would have revolted at compassion, and words of pity would have shamed him.

Father Roland had given voice to neither of these.

But the grip of his hand had been like the grip of an iron man.
In the third coach David sat down in an empty seat.

For the first time in many months there was a thrill of something in his blood which he could not analyze.

What had the Little Missioner meant when, with that wonderful grip of his knotted hand, he had said, "I've learned how a man can find himself when he's down and out"?
And what had he meant when he added, "Will you come with me"?
Go with him?
Where?
There came a sudden crash of the storm against the window, a shrieking blast of wind and snow, and David stared into the night.