It may have been the ache in his head or the oppressive languor that
seemed to possess his body, but throughout the prayer that followed
the sermon he was conscious chiefly of a great longing for his mother's
touch upon his head, and with that a longing for his boyhood's sense of
the friendly God in his heart.
And so as the preacher led them up to God in prayer, Cameron bowed his
head with the others, thankful that he could still believe that, though
clouds and darkness might be about Him, God was not beyond the reach of
the soul's cry nor quite unmoved by human need. And for the first time
for years he sent forth as a little child his cry of need, "God help me!
God help me!"
CHAPTER VII
THE CHIVAREE
There was still light enough to see. The last hymn was announced.
Cameron was conscious of a deep, poignant emotion. He glanced swiftly
about him. The eyes of all were upon the preacher's face while he read
in slow sonorous tones the words of the old Methodist hymn:
"Come, Thou Fount of every blessing!
Tune my heart to sing Thy grace;"
all except the group of young men of whom Perkins was the centre, who,
by means of the saccharine medium known as conversation lozenges, were
seeking to divert the attention of the band of young girls sitting
before them.
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