O to know that she was protected, hidden! Fumbling in his pocket, he came upon a slip of paper, the slip the girl had given Elizabeth in the schoolhouse on Sunday afternoon.

"For in the time of trouble he shall hide me in his pavilion; in the secret of his tabernacle shall he hide me." Ah! God had hidden her then.

Why not again?
And what was that he had said to her himself, when searching for a word to cover his emotion?
"I pray for you!" Why could he not pray?
She had made him pray in the wilderness.
Should he not pray for her who was in peril now?
He leaned back in the hot, uncomfortable car-seat, pulling his hat down closer over his eyes, and prayed as he had never prayed before.

"Our Father" he stumbled through as far as he could remember, and tried to think how her sweet voice had filled in the places where he had not known it the other time.

Then, when he was done, he waited and prayed, "Our Father, care for Elizabeth," and added, "For Jesus' sake.