"God," he whispered, "how can I leave this place ?" He turned back into the house, closed and barred the door.

With the manner of one making a resolution after a hard struggle, he took writing material from the top shelf of the cupboard, and, seating himself at the table, began to write.

The hours slipped by, and page after page, closely written, came from the shepherd's pen, while, as he wrote, the man's face grew worn and haggard.

It was as though he lifted again the burden he had learned to lay aside.

At last it was finished.