in whose pulpit the stranger preached stirred uneasily. But he went on tensely, with flying words:
‚ÄúUnselfishness is sacrifice‚ÅÝ‚ÄîJesus was supreme sacrifice.‚Äù (‚ÄúAmen,‚Äù screamed a voice.) ‚ÄúIn your dark lives,‚Äù he cried, ‚Äú who is the King of Glory? Sacrifice. Lift up your heads, then, ye gates of prejudice and hate, and let the King of Glory come in. Forget yourselves and your petty wants, and behold your starving people. The wail of black millions sweeps the air‚ÅÝ‚Äîeast and west they cry, Help! Help! Are you dumb? Are you blind? Do you dance and laugh, and hear and see not? The cry of death is in the air; they murder, burn, and maim us!‚Äù (‚ÄúOh‚ÅÝ‚Äîoh‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù moaned the people swaying in their seats.) ‚ÄúWhen we cry they mock us; they ruin our women and debauch our children‚ÅÝ‚Äîwhat shall we do?
‚ÄúBehold the Lamb of God that taketh away sin. Behold the Supreme Sacrifice that makes us clean. Give up your pleasures; give up your wants; give up all to the weak and wretched of our people. Go down to Pharaoh and smite him in God‚Äôs name. Go down to the South where we writhe. Strive‚ÅÝ‚Äîwork‚ÅÝ‚Äîbuild‚ÅÝ‚Äîhew‚ÅÝ‚Äîlead‚ÅÝ‚Äîinspire! God calls. Will you hear? Come to Jesus. The harvest is waiting. Who will cry: ‚ÄòHere am I, send me!‚Äô‚Ää‚Äù
Zora rose and walked up the aisle; she knelt before the altar and answered the call: ‚ÄúHere am I‚ÅÝ‚Äîsend me.‚Äù
And then she walked out. Above her sailed the same great stars; around her hummed the same hoarse city; but within her soul sang some new song of peace.
‚ÄúWhat is the matter, Zora?‚Äù Mrs. ¬ÝVanderpool inquired, for she seemed to see in the girl‚Äôs face and carriage some subtle change; something that seemed to tell how out of the dream had stepped the dreamer into the realness of things; how suddenly the seeker saw; how to the wanderer, the Way was opened.