"This is an awful place!" said Magnus.
"You think so now, because you are just back from furlough. But you will find the world power in full force still, when you get to some far-off frontier post. Very few lives have a steady fair breeze straight into heaven. 'Ye must take the wind in your face if ye will fetch Christ,' said old Samuel Rutherford; and most of us find it so. But then, 'How sweet is the wind that bloweth out of the airth where Christ is.'"
And Magnus remembered instantly that ever since he came to West Point, he had hailed the west wind, because it seemed to come from home.
"How can you always tell, sir, whence it comes?" he asked suddenly. "Being disagreeable doesn't prove a thing right."
"Truly no. But you know what Christ himself is, Mr. Kindred; study him, his character, his will, his throne. It is not hard to match your colours, if you are really so minded. West Point is not so unlike everywhere else as you seem to think. I remember a young man who went from here to Texas, and wrote back that he was still fighting the world, the flesh, and the devil. Finding the world perhaps a little less down there, but the flesh and the devil about as usual. And so you will find it. 'The kingdom of God is within you'—not outside: whether at Governor's Island, or San Carlos."
"What makes you speak of San Carlos, sir?" Magnus said, with almost a start.
"One of the worst posts in the army, is it not?—or counted so?"
"I am not afraid of San Carlos," said Magnus decidedly. "The devil always has to clear out, when an angel comes in."
Mr. Wayne turned and looked at him.
"So!" he said; "that is all settled, is it? But no, my young sir: Satan held a dispute with an archangel once, long enough for some pretty strong words on both sides. And you are going to take an angel to San Carlos!"