"Say 'Our Father!' so that I can hear every word.

My mother used to teach it to me." "And she is dead ?" said Roland.
"Years ago," he gasped.
Roland knelt down.

How familiar, with what a touch of bygone days, the attitude came to him; how homely the words sounded! He had uttered them innumerable times; never quite without a feeling of their sacredness and sweetness.

But he had not dared to take them into his lips of late.

His voice faltered, though he strove to keep it steady and distinct, to reach the dying ears that listened to him.