"Hail, sov'reign love, that first began
The scheme to rescue fallen man!
Hail, matchless, free, eternal grace,
That gave my soul a hiding-place."
With his face turned as much as possible from the singers, he stood
very stiff and erect, staring at the printed page. Loudly as they had
sung the first verse they seemed to sing the second verse more loudly.
"Against the God that rules the sky,
I fought with hand uplifted high;
Despised His rich abounding grace,
Too proud to seek a hiding-place."
Dale braced himself, squared his shoulders and stood more erect than
ever as they struck into the third verse.
They sang louder than before: it seemed to him that they were
screaming.
"But thus th' eternal counsel ran,
'_Almighty_ love, arrest that man!'"
Dale closed the hymn-book, held it behind his back, and stared at the
cross-beams of the roof until the hymn was over.
After the hymn Mr. Osborn read a couple of chapters from the Bible,
and Dale, seated again, understood how utterly unfounded had been his
recent notion that these people were devoting any particular attention
to him. He looked at them carefully. Obviously they had not a thought
of him.
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