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1924. The romance, rebellion, regeneration and religion of an ex-priest, who, himself, told this story to the author. The book begins: The fog was so dense that one could not see the planks at his feet. It moved with the pedestrian and distilled on his clothing. It shrouded the town and the river, and made mysterious the sounds which it intensified. The voices of the fishermen in their boats seemed but a few feet away, and one could hear the splash as a fish was lifted out of its native element. The running of the lifts of the coal mine, and the steady whine of a shrill whistle at the saltworks, gave notice that industry does not wait for sunshine. Busy hammers could be heard calking the new steamboat, Emma Rickard, at the boatyard, a mile away.