But tonight, so deeply was he exercised with the unhappy doom of the unfortunate king of Egypt, from which, apparently, there was no escape, fixed as it was by the Divine decree, and oppressed with the feeling that the same decree would determine the course of his life, he missed his usual thrill.

He was walking off by himself in a perplexed and downcast mood, avoiding every one, even Don, and was nearly past the minister's gate when Hughie, excited and breathless, caught up to him and exclaimed: "Oh, Ranald, was not that splendid?
Man, I like to hear John 'Aleck' sing 'Crown him' that way.
And I say," he continued, "mother wants you to come in." Then all at once Ranald remembered the young man who had behaved so disgracefully in church.
"No," he said, firmly, "I must be hurrying home.

The cows will be to milk yet." "Oh, pshaw! you must come," pleaded Hughie.

"We will have some singing.
I want you to sing bass.

Perhaps John 'Aleck' will come in." This was sheer guessing, but it was good bait.