looked this way and that as if he would run. But he did not know which way to go.
At length an old man, with long white beard and a gentle face, came that way and saw him weeping.
"What is the matter?" asked the stranger, whose name was Evangelist. "Why are you crying?"
"Oh, sir," answered the man, "this book which I have in my hand tells me that unless I get rid of this heavy burden I shall surely die."
"Then why do you stand here?" asked Evangelist. "Why don't you go and get rid of it?"
"Because I don't know which way to go," said the man, still weeping.
Then Evangelist pointed with his finger towards the blue hills far, far away.
"Look!" he said. "Do you see that wicket gate?"
"No."
"Then do you see a shining light yonder in the distance?"
"Yes, I think I do."
"Well, then, keep that light always in view. Go straight towards it, and by and by you can see the wicket gate. When you have come to the gate, knock, and the one who keeps it will tell you what to do."
