s　eyes。

‘You　ain’t　never　changed；’　he　said。　‘You　still　waiting　to　see　my　downfall。　You　just　aswicked　now　as　you　was　when　you　was　young。’

She　put　the　letter　in　her　bag　again。

‘No；’　she　said；　‘I　ain’t　changed。　You　ain’t　changed　neither。　You　still　promising　the　Lordyou　going　to　do　better—and　you　think　whatever　you　done　already；　whatever　you　doing　right　at　thatminute；　don’t　count。　Of　all　the　men　I　ever　knew；　you’s　the　man　who　ought　to　be　hoping　the　Bible’sall　a　lie—’cause　if　that　trumpet　ever　sounds；　you　going　to　spend　eternity　talking。’

They　had　reached　her　corner。　She　stopped；　and　he　stopped　with　her；　and　she　stared　into　hishaggard；　burning　face。

‘I　got　to　take　my　underground；’　she　said。　‘You　got　anything　you　want　to　say　to　me？’

‘I　been　living　a　long　time；’　he　said；　‘and　I　ain’t　never　seen　nothing　but　evil　overtake　theenemies　of　the　Lord。　You　think　you　going　to　use　that　letter　to　hurt　me—but　the　Lord　ain’t　going　tolet　it　e　to　pass。　You　going　to　be　cut　down。’

The　praying　women　approached　them；　Elizabeth　in　the　middle。

‘Deborah；’　Florence　said；　‘was　cut　down—but　she　left　word。　She　weren’t　no　enemy　ofnobody—and　she　didn’t　see　nothing　but　evil。　When　I　go；　brother；　you　better　tremble；　’cause　I　ain’tgoing　to　go　in　silence。’

And；　while　they　stared　at　each　other；　saying　nothing　more；　the　praying　women　were　uponthem。

Now　the　long；　the　silent　avenue　stretched　before　them　like　some　gray　country　of　the　dead。　Itscarcely　seemed　that　he　had　walked　this　avenue　only　（as　time　was　reckoned　up　by　men）　some　fewhours　ago；　that　he　had　known　this　avenue　since　his　eyes　had　opened　on　the　dangerous　world；　thathe　had　played　here；　wept　here；　fled；　fallen　down；　and　been　bruised　here—in　that　time；　so　farbehind　him；　of　his　innocence　a