"Then you have broken the first and greatest command of God," she said, "and St. Paul has said: 'Condemned is every one that continues not in all things which are written in the book of the law to do them.' If dark clouds are overshadowing you, dear father, may it not be because you have broken the law of God and are under His condemnation?"
"I had hoped for comfort from you," he said, coldly, "but you have made me miserably unhappy."
"Wait," said Chrissy. "This is the comforting thing about it all. It says here in Galatians: 'Christ hath redeemed us from the condemnation of the law, having been condemned for us.'
"Then if He paid the penalty of the faults and failures of my life, I suppose I should have no anxious thought about the future."
"Quite so," said Chrissy.
"I never saw it in that light before," he said. "Why did you not tell me this before, child?"
"Because," she replied, "I feared that you would scoff at my 'Quakerism,' as the boys call it."
In the few short weeks that followed, confidence and hope rose triumphant over physical weakness and mental depression, and on the second of June, 1839, the White Chief of the Ottawa passed through "the valley of the shadow." To him it was not a dark valley, however, for shadows cannot be seen in the dark. The Light of the World, whom he had lost sight of for the best part of his life, was there, and all was peace.
THE END.