"' Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto Me.'"
Amer was silent and ashamed, while a sudden craving for his King's approbation took possession of him, and made him realize for the first time that the Radiant City had almost faded from his sight and that he was out of touch with it. It was with a start that he noticed its dimness. Was the stranger right then? Had he through pride and carelessness drifted into the hands of the enemy? He grasped his sword, which for some time had hung idle by his side, and cried out to his King.
[CHAPTER XIII.]
THE CROSS IN THE VALLEY.
It was with grief that the band of pilgrims watched Amer out of sight as his path diverged from theirs.
"But," they said, "we could not expect to have his company long. The King has other plans for him than to help and lead such a small band of pilgrims."
"Have you noticed," said one of them, "that his advice has not been of late so ready for us, that he has grown graver and sadder?"
"Yes," answered his companion, "he seemed to lose his zeal and his assurance, and to be weary."
"It is tiring climbing to the heights," said a third, "as for me I would rather be led through the valleys. I like lowly paths best."