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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Mystics, by Katherine Cecil Thurston
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Mystics
+       A Novel
+
+
+Author: Katherine Cecil Thurston
+
+
+
+Release Date: April 17, 2007  [eBook #21127]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MYSTICS***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Storm, and the Project Gutenberg Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 21127-h.htm or 21127-h.zip:
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/1/1/2/21127/21127-h/21127-h.htm)
+      or
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/1/1/2/21127/21127-h.zip)
+
+
+
+
+
+THE MYSTICS
+
+A Novel
+
+by
+
+KATHERINE CECIL THURSTON
+
+Author of
+"The Masquerader" "The Gambler"
+
+Illustrated
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: See Chap. VII "THE PROPHET WITH HIS FIXED GAZE UPON THE
+SCITSYM"]
+
+
+
+Harper & Brothers Publishers
+New York and London
+MCMVII
+
+Copyright, 1904, by Katherine Cecil Thurston.
+All rights reserved.
+Published April, 1907.
+
+
+
+
+                 To my Cousin
+              Nancy Inez Pollock
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+   "THE PROPHET WITH HIS FIXED GAZE UPON THE SCITSYM" _Frontispiece_
+
+   "THE FIGURE OF HIS UNCLE ... SHOWED TALL AND
+   ANGULAR IN THE APERTURE"                           _Facing p._ 20
+
+   "HE ... GATHERED THE FIRST SHEAF OF LEAVES INTO
+   HIS FINGERS"                                            "      40
+
+   "ACROSS THE PROPHET'S BREAST, IN MARKS OF A CRUEL
+   LACERATION, RAN THE SYMBOLIC OCTAGONAL FIGURE OF
+   THE MYSTIC SECT"                                        "      56
+
+   "WITH A FRESH BURST OF TEARS, SHE TURNED AND FLUNG
+   HERSELF UPON THE COUCH"                                 "     116
+
+   "HER HAND WAS TREMBLING AS SHE RAISED THE HEAVY
+   KNOCKER"                                                "     136
+
+   "'I AM IN NEED OF HELP ... AND YOU CAN HELP ME'"        "     146
+
+   "SHE SAW THE FIGURE OF THE PROPHET ... ATTENDED BY
+   THE PRECURSOR AND THE SIX ARCH-MYSTICS"                 "     158
+
+
+
+
+THE MYSTICS
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+Of all the sensations to which the human mind is a prey, there is none
+so powerful in its finality, so chilling in its sense of an impending
+event as the knowledge that Death--grim, implacable Death--has cast his
+shadow on a life that custom and circumstance have rendered familiar.
+Whatever the personal feeling may be--whether dismay, despair, or
+relief--no man or woman can watch that advancing shadow without a
+quailing at the heart, an individual shrinking from the terrible,
+natural mystery that we must all face in turn--each for himself and each
+alone.
+
+In a gaunt house on the loneliest point where the Scottish coast
+overlooks the Irish Sea, John Henderson was watching his uncle die. In
+the plain, whitewashed room where the sick man lay, a fire was burning
+and a couple of oil-lamps shed an uncertain glow; but outside, the wind
+roared inland from the shore, and the rain splashed in furious showers
+against the windows of the house. It was a night of tumult and darkness;
+but neither the old man who lay waiting for the end nor the young man
+who watched that end approaching gave any heed to the turmoil of the
+elements. Each was self-engrossed.
+
+Except for an occasional rasping cough, or a slow, indrawn breath, no
+sign came from the small iron bedstead on which the dying man lay. His
+hard, emaciated face was set in an impenetrable mask; his glazed eyes
+were fixed immovably on a distant portion of the ceiling; and his hands
+lay clasped upon his breast, covering some object that depended from
+his neck.
+
+He had lain thus since the doctor from the neighboring town had braved
+the rising storm and ridden over to see him in the fall of the evening;
+and no accentuation of the gale that lashed the house, no increase in
+the roar of the ocean three hundred yards away, had power to interrupt
+his lethargy.
+
+In curious contrast was the expression that marked his nephew's face. An
+extraordinary suppressed energy was visible in every line of John
+Henderson's body as he sat crouching over the fire; and a look of
+irrepressible excitement smoldered in the eyes that gazed into the
+glowing coals. He was barely twenty-three years old, but the
+self-control that comes from endurance and privation sat unmistakably on
+his knitted brows and closed lips. He was neither handsome of feature
+nor graceful of figure, yet there was something more striking and
+interesting than either grace or beauty in the strong, youthful form
+and the strong, intelligent face. For a long time he retained his
+crouching seat on the wooden stool that stood before the hearth; then at
+last the activity at work within his mind made further inaction
+intolerable. He rose and turned towards the bed.
+
+The dying man lay motionless, awaiting the final summons with that
+aloofness that suggests a spirit already partially extricated from its
+covering of flesh. His glassy eyes were still fixed and immovable save
+for an occasional twitching of the eyelids; his pallid lips were drawn
+back from his strong, prominent teeth; and the skin about his temples
+looked shrivelled and sallow. The doctor's parting words came sharply to
+the younger man's mind.
+
+"Sit still and watch him--you can do no more."
+
+He reiterated this injunction many times mentally as he stood
+contemplating the man who for seven interminable years had ruled,
+repressed, and worked him as he might have worked a well-constructed,
+manageable machine; and a sudden rush of joy, of freedom and recompense
+flooded his heart and set his pulses throbbing. He momentarily lost
+sight of the grim shadow hovering over the house. The sense of
+emancipation rose tumultuously, over-ruling even the immense solemnity
+of approaching Death.
+
+John Henderson had known little of the easy, pleasant paths of
+life, carpeted by wealth and sheltered by influence. His most
+childish and distant recollections carried him back to days of
+anxious poverty. His father, the elder son of a wealthy Scottish
+landowner, had quarrelled with his father, and at the age of
+twenty left his home, disinherited in favor of his younger brother.
+Possessed of a peculiar temperament--passionate, headstrong, dogged
+in his resolves, he had shaken the dust of Scotland from his feet;
+sworn never to be beholden to either father or brother for the
+fraction of a penny, and had gone out into the world to seek his
+fortune. But the fortune had been far to seek. For years he had
+followed the sea; for years he had toiled on land; but in every
+undertaking failure stalked him. Finally, at the age of fifty, he
+touched success for the first time. He fell in love and found his
+love returned. But here again the irony of fate was constant in its
+pursuit. The object of his choice was the daughter of an artist, a
+man as needy, as entirely unfortunate as he himself.
+
+But love at fifty is sometimes as blind as love at twenty-five. With an
+improvidence that belied his nationality, Alick Henderson married after
+a courtship as brief as it was happy. For a year he shared the
+hap-hazard life of his wife and father-in-law; then Nature saw fit to
+alter the small _ménage_. The artist died, and almost at the same time
+little John was born.
+
+With the coming of the child, Henderson conceived a new impetus and also
+a new sense of bitterness and self-reproach. A homeless failure may
+tramp the face of the earth and feel no shame; but the unsuccessful man
+who is a husband and a father moves upon a different plane. He has
+ties--responsibilities--something for which he must answer to himself.
+
+There is pathos in the picture of a man setting forth at fifty-one to
+conquer the world anew; and its grim futility is not good to look upon.
+Henderson had failed for himself, and he failed equally for others. The
+years that followed his marriage were but the unwinding of a pitifully
+old story. Before his boy was ten years old he had run the gamut of
+humiliation; he had done everything that the pinch of poverty could
+demand, except apply for aid to his brother Andrew. This even the
+faithful, patient wife who had stood stanch in all his trials never
+dared to suggest.
+
+In this atmosphere John learned to look upon life. A naturally
+high-spirited and courageous child, he gradually fell under that spell
+of premature understanding that is the portion of a mind forced too soon
+to realize the significance of ways and means. Day by day his serious
+eyes grew to comprehend the lines that marked his mother's beloved face;
+to know the cost at which his own education, his own wants, were
+supplied by the tired, silent father, who, despite his shabby clothes
+and prematurely broken air, seemed perpetually to move in the glamour of
+a past romance; and gradually, steadily, passionately, as these things
+came home to him, there grew up in his youthful mind a desire to
+compensate by his own future for the struggle he daily witnessed.
+
+Many were the nights when--his lessons for the next day finished, and
+his father away at one of the many precarious tasks that kept the
+household together--he would draw close to his mother, as she sat
+industriously sewing, and beg her for the hundredth time to recount the
+story of the grim Scotch home where his father had lost his birthright;
+of the stern old grandfather who had died inexorably unforgiving; of the
+unknown uncle of whom rumor told many eccentric stories. And, roused by
+the recital, his boyish face would flush, his boyish mind leap forward
+towards the future.
+
+"'Twill all come back, mother!" he would cry. "'Twill all come back!
+I'll win it back!"
+
+And, with a sobbing laugh, his mother would drop her sewing and draw him
+to her heart in a sudden yearning of love and pride.
+
+In such surroundings and in such an atmosphere he passed sixteen years;
+then the first upheaval of his life took place. His father died.
+
+His first recollection--when the terrible necessities of the event were
+past, and his own grief and consternation had partially subsided--was
+the remembrance of his mother calling him to her room; of her kissing
+him, crying over him and telling him of the resolve she had taken to
+write and make known his existence to his uncle in Scotland.
+
+The confession at first overwhelmed him. His own pride, his sense of
+loyalty to his father's memory prompted him to cry out against the idea
+as against a sacrilege. Then slowly his boyish, immature mind grasped
+something of the nobility that prompted the decision--something of the
+inexpressible love that counted sentiment and personal dignity as
+nothing beside his own future; and in a passion of gratitude he flung
+his arms about his mother, repeating the old childish vows with a new
+and deeper force.
+
+So the letter to Scotland was despatched; and a time of sharp suspense
+followed for mother and son. Then, one never-to-be-forgotten day, the
+answer arrived.
+
+Andrew Henderson wrote unemotionally. He expressed formal regret for his
+brother's death, but evinced no interest in his sister-in-law's
+position. He briefly described himself as living an isolated life in a
+small house on the sea-coast, a dozen miles from the family home which
+had remained untenanted since his father's death. He admitted that with
+advancing years the duties of life had begun to weigh upon him,
+diverting his mind and time from the graver pursuits to which his life
+was devoted; finally he grudgingly suggested that, should his nephew
+care to undertake the duties of secretary at a salary of sixty pounds a
+year, he might find a home with him.
+
+The immediate feeling that followed the reading of the letter was
+fraught with chilling disappointment. On the moment, pride again
+asserted itself, urging a swift refusal of the rich man's proposal; then
+once more the patience that had kept Mrs. Henderson brave and gentle
+during seventeen years of wearing poverty made itself felt. All thought
+of personal grievance faded from her mind as she pointed out the urgent
+necessity of John's being seen and known by this uncle, whose only
+relation and ostensible heir he was. She talked for long, wisely and
+kindly--as mothers talk out of the unselfish fulness of their
+hearts--and with every word the golden castles of her imagination rose
+tower on tower to form the citadel in which her son was to reign
+supreme.
+
+So wisely and so lovingly did she talk that she persuaded not only the
+boy, but herself, into the belief that he had but to reach Scotland to
+make his inheritance sure; and before the day closed she wrote to Andrew
+Henderson accepting his offer. A week later the whole light of her life
+went out, as she watched the train steam out of the station, carrying
+John northward.
+
+Upon the days that followed his arrival in Scotland there is no need to
+dwell. He came as a stranger, and as a stranger he was introduced by
+his uncle to the routine of work expected of him. No mention was made of
+his recent loss, no suggestion was given that his mother should make her
+double bereavement easier by visits to her son. Whatever of hope or
+sentiment he had brought with him, he was left to destroy or smother as
+best he could.
+
+The first week resolved itself into one round of boyish homesickness and
+desolation; then gradually, as the marvellous healing properties of
+youth began to stir, a new feeling awakened in his mind--a sense of
+curiosity concerning the strange old man whom fate, by a twist of the
+wheel, had made the arbiter of his life. Even to one so young and
+inexperienced, it was impossible to know Andrew Henderson and not to
+feel that some strange peculiarity set him apart from other men. In his
+ascetic face, in his large, light-blue eyes, in his extraordinary air of
+abstraction and aloofness from mundane things, there was something that
+fascinated and repelled; and with a wondering interest the boy studied
+these things, trying in his unformed way to reconcile them with his
+narrow experience of human nature.
+
+For many weeks he sought without success for some key to the attitude of
+this new-found relative. Then one evening--when solution seemed least
+near--the key, metaphorically speaking, fell at his feet. Returning home
+from a ramble over the headland, his observant eye was caught by the
+sight of a narrow foot-track that, crossing the main pathway of the
+cliff, wound steeply upward and seemingly lost itself in a tangle of
+gorse and bracken. Stirred by a boyish desire for exploration, he
+paused, turned into this obscure track, and incontinently began its
+ascent.
+
+For some hundreds of yards it led upward in a sharp incline; and with
+its added steepness, the ardor of the explorer warmed. With impetuous
+haste he climbed the last dozen yards; when, as the anticipated summit
+was reached, he halted in abrupt, dismayed surprise; for with alarming
+suddenness the land broke off short, disclosing a deep gap or fissure,
+carpeted with heather and surrounded by natural protecting walls of
+rock, in the centre of which was set a miniature chapel built of dark
+stone.
+
+At sight of the little edifice, he thrilled with adventurous surprise.
+There was something mysterious, something almost fine in the sight of
+the small temple, with the setting sun gleaming on its solid walls, its
+low, massive door and round window of thick stained glass. He leaned out
+over the shelving rock, staring down upon it with wide, astonished eyes;
+then the natural instinct of the boy overtopped every other feeling.
+With a quick-movement of excitement and expectation, he began to descend
+into the hollow.
+
+But though he walked round the little building a dozen times, shook the
+heavy door and peered ineffectually into the opaque window, nothing
+rewarded his curiosity, and after half an hour of diligent endeavor he
+was compelled to return home no wiser than when he had first stood on
+the summit of the path and looked down into the rocky cleft.
+
+All that evening, however, the thought of his discovery remained with
+him. At the eight-o'clock supper of porridge, vegetables, and fruit
+which he shared with his uncle, he chafed under the silence of his
+companion and at the air of calm indifference that the whitewashed room
+with its raftered ceiling seemed to wear; and it was with a sigh of
+satisfaction that he rose from table and bade his uncle a formal
+good-night.
+
+With the same suggestion of relief, he watched the old man light his
+candle and ascend the bare stairs to his own room; then prompted by the
+impulse he never neglected, he went into the study to write the daily
+letter that made his mother's existence bearable.
+
+He wrote for nearly an hour, omitting no detail of the evening's
+discovery. Then, as he closed and sealed the letter, a clock on the
+mantel-piece struck ten. The sound had an oddly hollow and chilly effect
+in the bare, carpetless room; and unconsciously he raised his head and
+glanced about him. His ideas, still stirred by his adventure, were more
+prone than usual to the suggestion of outward things; and for almost the
+first time since his arrival, he felt drawn to study his intimate
+surroundings. With a new curiosity he let his eyes wander from the
+severe book-shelves to the ugly iron safe that stood in the most
+prominent position in the room; and from the safe his glance turned to
+the revolving bookcase by his uncle's favorite chair, in which lay the
+volumes that were in daily use. Following an impulse he had never
+previously been conscious of, he crossed the room, and drawing three
+books, at hap-hazard from the case, studied their titles.
+
+_The Indissoluble Essence_, he read; _The Soul in Relation to the Human
+Mind_; _The Mystic Influence_.
+
+He stood for a space gazing at the sombre covers, but making no attempt
+to dip into their pages; then a sudden look of comprehension sprang into
+his eyes. The oddly built stone chapel took on a new and more personal
+meaning. With a quick gesture he thrust the books back into their place,
+extinguished the lamp, and softly left the room. Gaining the hall, he
+did not turn towards the stairs; but tiptoeing to the table, picked up
+his cap, crossed the hall noiselessly and opened the outer door.
+
+The warmth of the August day was still heavy on the air as he stepped
+into the open; a great copper-colored moon hung low over the sea, and a
+soft, filmy haze lay over both land and water. Without hesitation he
+turned into the cliff path, and followed it until his quick eyes caught
+the indistinct foot-track that he had discovered earlier in the evening.
+With the same decision, the same suggestion of anticipation, he stepped
+rapidly forward and once more began the sharp ascent.
+
+The impetus of his curiosity carried him forward; he mounted the path in
+hot haste; then, as he gained the summit, he halted again, but in new
+surprise. In the hazy, mellow moonlight, the small building stood out
+sharp and dark as on his previous visit, but from the round,
+stained-glass window a flood of light--crimson, rose-color, and
+gold--poured out into the night.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+In the first moment of astonishment, John stood motionless, his gaze
+riveted on the glow of color that poured through the window upon the
+rocks and heather of the cleft. Then, as he continued to stand with
+widely opened eyes, another surprise was sprung upon him. The door of
+the chapel opened and the figure of his uncle--long since supposed to be
+sleeping tranquilly in his own room--showed tall and angular in the
+aperture.
+
+[Illustration: "THE FIGURE OF HIS UNCLE ... SHOWED TALL AND ANGULAR IN
+THE APERTURE"]
+
+From John's position, the open door and the lighted interior of the
+little edifice were distinctly visible; and in one glance he saw his
+uncle's silhouetted figure and behind it a bare space some dozen feet
+square, lined on floor and walls with sections of marble alternately
+black and white. From the ceiling of this chamber depended an
+octagonal symbol in polished metal, and close by the door eight wax
+candles flickered slightly in the faint stir of air. But his astonished
+and inquisitive eyes had barely become aware of these details when
+Andrew Henderson turned towards the circular sconce in which the candles
+were set and began to extinguish them one by one. As the light died, he
+stepped forward and John drew back sharply; but at his movement a stone,
+loosened by his heel, went rolling down into the hollow. And a moment
+later his uncle, glancing up, saw his figure outlined against the
+luminous sky.
+
+What the outcome of the incident would have been on any other occasion,
+it is difficult to say. As it was, the moment was propitious. Old
+Henderson, surprised in an instant of exaltation, was pleased to put his
+own narrow, superstitious construction on the boy's appearance. Laboring
+under an abnormal excitement, he showed no resentment at the fact of
+being spied upon; but calling John to him, ordered him to walk home
+beside him across the cliff.
+
+Never was walk so strange--never were companions so ill-matched as the
+two who threaded their way back over the headland. Andrew Henderson
+walked first, talking all the time in a jargon addressed partly to the
+boy, partly to himself, in which mysticism was oddly tangled with a
+confusion of crazy theories and beliefs; behind came John, half
+fascinated and wholly bewildered by the medley of words that poured out
+upon the night.
+
+On reaching the house, the old man became suddenly silent again, falling
+back as if by habit into the morose absorption that marked his daily
+life; but as he turned to mount the stairs to his own room, he paused
+and his curious light-blue eyes travelled over his nephew's face.
+
+"Good-night!" he said. "You make a good listener."
+
+And John--still confused and silent--retired to bed, to lie awake for
+many hours, partly thrilled and partly elated by the awesome thought
+that there was a madman in the house.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+But all that had happened seven years ago, and now Andrew Henderson lay
+waiting for his end. In those seven years John had passed through the
+mill of deadly monotony that saps even youth, and lulls every instinct
+save hope. The first enthusiasm of romance that had wrapped the
+discovery of his uncle's secret had faded out with time. By slow degrees
+he had learned--partly from his own observation, partly from the old
+man's occasional fanatic outbursts--that the strange chapel with its
+metal symbol and marble floor was not the outcome of a private whim, but
+the manifestation of a creed that boasted a small but ardent band of
+followers. He had learned that--to themselves, if not to the
+world--these devotees were known as the Mystics; that their articles of
+faith were preserved in a secret book designated the Scitsym, which
+passed in rotation each year from one to another of the six
+Arch-Mystics, remaining in the care of each for two months out of the
+twelve. He had discovered that London was the Centre of this sect; and
+that its fundamental belief was the anticipation of a mysterious
+prophet--human, and yet divinely inspired--by whose coming the light was
+to extend from the small and previously unknown band across the whole
+benighted world.
+
+He had learned all these things. He had been stirred to a passing awe by
+the discovery that his uncle was, in his own person, actually one of the
+profound Six who formed the Council of the sect and to whom alone the
+secrets of its creed were known; and for three successive years his
+interest and curiosity had been kindled when Andrew Henderson travelled
+to England and returned with the Arch-Councillor--an old blind man of
+seventy--who invariably spent one day and night mysteriously closeted
+with his host and then left, having deposited the sacred Scitsym with
+his own hands in the tall iron safe that stood in Henderson's study. But
+that annual excitement had lessened with time. Even a madman may become
+monotonous when we live with him, day in, day out, for seven long years;
+and gradually the attitude of John's mind had changed with the passage
+of time. The sense of adventure and triumphant enterprise had steadily
+receded; the knowledge that he was working out a slow, distasteful
+probation had advanced. Reluctantly and yet definitely he had realized
+that his position was not to come and conquer, but to watch and wait;
+and this consciousness of a tacitly expected end had grown with the
+years--with the growth of his mind and body. It was not that he was
+hard-natured. The regularity with which he despatched his yearly money
+to his mother--reserving the merest fraction for himself--precluded that
+idea. But he was young and human, and he was youthfully and humanly
+greedy to possess the good things of life for himself and for the one
+being he passionately loved. It would, indeed, have been an enthusiast
+in virtue who could have blamed him for counting upon dead men's shoes.
+
+And now the shoes were all but empty! He stood watching his uncle die!
+
+Having stayed almost motionless for several minutes, he glanced at the
+clock; then moved to the bed, taking a bottle and a medicine spoon from
+the dressing-table as he passed.
+
+"Time for your medicine, uncle!" he said, in his quiet, level voice.
+
+But the sick man did not seem to hear.
+
+In a slightly louder tone John repeated his remark. This time the vacant
+expression faded slowly from the large, pale eyes, and Andrew Henderson
+moved his head weakly.
+
+Seeing the indication of consciousness, John carefully measured out a
+dose of medicine, and, stooping over the pillows, passed one arm under
+his uncle's neck.
+
+Andrew Henderson submitted without objection, but as his head was raised
+and the medicine held to his lips, he seemed suddenly to realize the
+position, to comprehend that it was his nephew who leaned over him. With
+a spasmodic movement he turned towards John, his lips twitching with
+some inward and newly aroused excitement.
+
+"The Book, John!" he said, sharply--"the Book!"
+
+John remained quite composed. With a steady hand he balanced the spoon
+of medicine that he still held.
+
+"Your medicine first, uncle," he said, quietly. "We'll talk about the
+Book after."
+
+But the old man's calm had been disturbed. With unexpected strength he
+raised one thin hand and pushed the spoon aside, spilling the contents
+on the bed.
+
+"How can I leave it?" he exclaimed. "How can I go and leave the Book
+unguarded?" Again his lips twitched and a feverish brightness flickered
+in his eyes as they searched his nephew's face.
+
+"When I go, John," he added, excitedly, "the Book may be in your keeping
+for hours--perhaps for a whole night. I know the Arch-Councillor will
+answer my summons immediately; but it is possible he may be delayed. It
+may be the ordination of the Unknown that I should Pass before he
+arrives. If this is so, I want you to guard the Book--but also I want
+you to guard my dead body. Let no one touch it until he comes. The key
+of the safe is here--" He fumbled weakly for the thin chain that hung
+about his neck. "No one must remove it--no one must touch it until he
+comes--" His voice faltered.
+
+With a calm gesture John forced him back upon the pillows, and quietly
+wiped up the medicine.
+
+But with a fresh effort the old man lifted himself again.
+
+"John," he cried, suddenly, "do you understand what I am saying? Do you
+understand that for a whole night you may be alone with the inviolable
+Scitsym? 'The Hope of the Universe, by whose Light alone the One and
+Only Prophet shall be made known unto the Watchers!'" He murmured the
+quotation in a low, rapt voice.
+
+Again the younger man attempted to soothe him.
+
+"Don't distress yourself!" he said, gravely. "I am here. You can trust
+me. Lie back and rest."
+
+But his uncle's face was still excitedly perturbed; his pale eyes still
+possessed an unnatural brightness.
+
+"Oh yes!" he said, sharply, "I trust you! I have trusted you. I have
+left a letter by which you will see that I have trusted you--and that
+your fidelity has been rewarded. But this is another matter. Can I trust
+you in this? Can I trust you as myself?" As he put the question a sweat
+of weakness and excitement broke out over his forehead.
+
+But it was neither his wild appearance nor his question that suddenly
+sent the blood into John's face and suddenly set his heart bounding. It
+was the abrupt and unlooked-for justification of his own secret,
+treasured hope; the tacit acknowledgment of kinship and obligation made
+now by Andrew Henderson after seven unfruitful years. A mist rose before
+his sight and his mind swam. What was the mad creed of a dying man--of a
+dozen dying men--when the reward of his own long probation awaited him?
+
+But the old man was set to his purpose. With shaking fingers he fumbled
+with two small objects that depended from the chain about his neck. And
+as he held them up, John saw by the glow of the lamp that one was a copy
+in miniature of the metal symbol that decorated the little chapel, the
+other a long, thin key.
+
+As Henderson disentangled and raised these objects to the light, his
+eyes turned again upon his nephew.
+
+"John," he said, tremulously, "I want you to swear to me by the Sign
+that you will not touch my body--nor anything on my body--till the
+Arch-Councillor comes! Swear, as you hope for your own happiness!" A
+wild illumination spread over his face; the unpleasant fanatical light
+showed again in his eyes.
+
+For a moment John looked at him; then stirred by his own emotions, by
+the new pang of self-reproach and gratitude towards this half-crazy man
+so near his end, he went forward and touched the small octagonal symbol
+that gleamed in the light.
+
+"I swear--by the Sign!" he said, in a low, level voice. And almost as
+the words escaped him, the chain slipped from old Henderson's fingers,
+his jaw dropped, and his head fell forward on his chest.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The moments that follow an important event are seldom of a nature to be
+accurately analyzed. For a long while John remained motionless and
+speechless, unable to realize that the huddled figure still warm in his
+arms was in reality the vessel of clay from which a spirit had escaped.
+Then suddenly the realization of the position came to him; with a sharp
+movement he stood upright, and seizing the bell-rope, pulled it
+vigorously.
+
+When the old woman who attended to the household appeared, he pointed to
+her master's body and explained in a few words how the end had come; and
+how in a last urgent command Henderson had forbidden his body to be
+touched until the arrival of a member of his religious sect. The old
+woman accepted the explanation with the apathy common to those who have
+outlived emotion; and with a series of nods and unintelligible
+mutterings methodically proceeded to straighten the already neatly
+arranged furniture of the room, in the instinctive belief that order is
+the first tribute to be paid to Death.
+
+With something of the same feeling John drew the coverlet over the dead
+body, then turned to watch the old woman at her work. But as he looked
+at her a desire to be alone again swept over him, and with the desire a
+corresponding impatience of her slow and measured movements. Chide
+himself as he might for his impatience, curb his natural instinct as he
+might, it was humanly impossible that his strong and eager spirit could
+give thought to Death--while Life was claiming him with out-stretched
+hands.
+
+He held himself rigidly in check until the last chair had been arranged
+and the last cinder swept from the hearth; then as the old woman slowly
+crossed the room and stepped out into the corridor, he sprang with
+irrepressible impetuosity and shut and locked the door.
+
+He had no superstitious consciousness of the dead body so close at
+hand. The dead body--and with it the dead years and the long
+probation--belonged to the past; he with his youth, his strength,
+his hope, was bound for the limitless future.
+
+Without a moment's hesitation he crossed to his uncle's bureau, which
+stood as he had left it three days before when his last illness had
+seized upon him. The papers were all in order; the ink was as yet
+scarcely rusted on the pens; the key protruded from the lock of the
+private drawer. With a tremor of excitement John extended his hand,
+turned it and opened the drawer; then he caught his breath. There lay a
+square white envelope addressed to himself in his uncle's fantastic,
+crooked handwriting.
+
+As he drew it out and held it for a moment in his hand, his thoughts
+centred unerringly round one object. In a moment, the seven years of
+waiting--the strange death scene just enacted--even Andrew Henderson and
+his mystical creed--were blotted from his mind by a wonderful
+rose-colored mist of hope, from which one face looked out--the patient,
+tender, pathetic face of the mother he adored. The emotions, so long
+suppressed, welled up as they had been wont to do years ago in the
+sordid London home.
+
+With a throb of confidence and anticipation he inserted his finger under
+the flap of the envelope and tore it open. With lightning speed his eyes
+skimmed the oddly written lines. Then a short, inarticulate sound
+escaped him, and the blood suddenly receded from his face.
+
+     "MY DEAR NEPHEW," he read.--"In acknowledgment of your services
+     during the past seven years--and also because I have no wish to
+     pass into the Unseen with the stain of vindictiveness on my
+     Soul--I have obliterated from my mind the remembrance of my
+     brother's ingratitude to our father, and have placed the sum of
+     £500 to your credit in the Cleef branch of the Consolidated Bank. I
+     trust it may assist you to commence an industrious career. For the
+     rest, it may interest you to know that my capital, which I realized
+     upon your grandfather's death, is already placed in the treasury of
+     the sect to which I belong--where it will remain until claimed by
+     the One in whose ultimate advent I most solemnly believe.
+
+     "I make you cognizant of these facts that all disputes and
+     unnecessary differences may be avoided after my death. The papers
+     by which my property was made over to the Mystics some five years
+     ago--together with a doctor's certificate as to my mental soundness
+     at the time--is in the hands of the Council. Any attempt to unmake
+     this disposition of my fortune would be fraught with failure.
+
+     "With sincere hopes for your future welfare,
+
+                     "Your uncle,
+
+                       "ANDREW HENDERSON."
+
+For a space John stood pale and rigid, making no attempt to reread the
+letter; then all at once one of those rare and curious upheavals of
+feeling that shake men to their souls seized upon him. The blood rushed
+back into his face in a dark wave; the rose-colored mist that had
+floated before his vision flamed suddenly to red; the same implacable
+rage that, years ago, had impelled his grandfather to disinherit his
+favorite son swelled in his heart. All ideas, all considerations, save
+one, became blurred and indistinct; but this one idea rode him, spurred
+him to a frenzy of desire. It was the blind, instinctive, human wish to
+wreak his loss and disappointment upon some tangible, visible object.
+
+With a dazed movement he turned to the bed; but only the huddled,
+impassive figure beneath the coverlet met his gaze. For more than a
+minute he stared at it helplessly; then a new thought shot across his
+mind and his lips drew together in a thin, hard line. The road to
+revenge lay open before him! With an abrupt gesture he stepped forward
+and pulled back the counterpane.
+
+In the yellow lamp-light the thin face of the dead man had an ashen hue;
+the half-opened eyes and the prominent teeth, from which the lips had
+partly receded, confronted him grewsomely. But the force of his
+disappointment and rage was something before which mere human horror was
+swept aside. With another rapid movement, he stooped over the bed and
+unclasped the thin gold chain that hung round the dead man's neck,
+letting the metal symbol and the long, thin key slip from it into his
+hand. Turning to the dressing-table, he caught up a lamp; hurried from
+the room; and, descending the stairs, passed into the study.
+
+To his excited glance the place looked strangely undisturbed. Though the
+frames of the windows rattled in the gale, the interior arrangements
+were as precise and bare as usual; the fireless grate stared at him
+coldly, and against the whitewashed wall the heavy iron safe stood out
+like an accentuated blot of shadow. Impelled by his one dominating idea,
+he crossed without an instant's hesitation to the door of this hitherto
+inviolable repository of his uncle's secrets, and, inserting the key he
+carried, threw back the massive door.
+
+One glance showed him the thing he sought. Lying in solitary state upon
+the highest shelf was a heavy book bound in white leather. The edges of
+the cover were worn yellow with time and use, and from the centre of the
+binding gleamed the familiar octagonal symbol exquisitely wrought in
+gold and jewels. With hands that trembled slightly he lifted the book
+from its place, closed and locked the door of the safe, and,
+extinguishing the lamp, left the room.
+
+In the flood of unreasoning rage and thwarted hope that surged about
+him, he had no definite plan regarding the object in his hand. He only
+knew, by the medium of instinct, that through it he could strike a blow
+at the uncle who had excluded him from his just inheritance--at the
+crazy scheme by which he had been defrauded of his due.
+
+With hasty steps he mounted the stairs and re-entered the bedroom. To
+his agitated mind it seemed but just that, whatever his vengeance, it
+should be accomplished in the grim, unconscious presence of the dead
+man.
+
+Stepping into the room, he paused and looked about him, seeking some
+suggestion. As he stood there, his eyes, by a natural process of
+inspiration, fell upon the fire that glowed and crackled in the grate;
+and with a sharp, inarticulate sound of satisfaction he strode forward
+to the hearth, knelt down, and prepared for his work of destruction.
+
+[Illustration: "HE ... GATHERED THE FIRST SHEAF OF LEAVES INTO HIS
+FINGERS"]
+
+As he crouched over the flames a fresh gale swept inland from the sea,
+seizing the house in its fierce embrace; and the red tongues of fire
+leaped up the chimney in the instant answer of element to element.
+
+Instinctively he bent forward, opened the book and gathered the first
+sheaf of leaves into his fingers. Then, involuntarily, he paused, as the
+bold characters of the printed words shot up black and clear in the
+fierce glow.
+
+Almost without volition he read the opening lines:
+
+     "Out of obscurity will He come. And--having proved Himself--no man
+     will question Him. For the Past lies in the Great Unknown. By the
+     Scitsym--from which none but the Chosen may read--will ye know Him;
+     and, knowing Him, ye will bow down--Mystics, Arch-Mystics, and
+     Arch-Councillor alike. And the World will be His. For He will be
+     Power made absolute!"
+
+"For he will be Power made absolute!" Something in the six simple words
+arrested Henderson, suspended his thoughts and checked his hand. By an
+odd psychological process his rage became chilled, his mind veered from
+its point of view. With a curious stiffness of motion he drew away from
+the fire--the book held uninjured in his hand.
+
+"He will be Power made absolute!" he repeated, mechanically, as he rose
+slowly to his feet.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+On a certain night in mid-January, exactly ten years after Andrew
+Henderson's death, any one of the multitudinous inhabitants of London
+whom business or pleasure carried to that division of Brompton known as
+Hellier Crescent, would undoubtedly have been attracted to the house
+distinguished from its fellows as No. 8.
+
+Outwardly, this house was not remarkable. It possessed the massive
+portico and the imposing frontage that lend to Hellier Crescent its air
+of dignified repose; but there its similarity to the surrounding
+dwellings ended. The basement sent forth no glow of warmth and comfort,
+as did the neighboring basements; the ground-floor windows permitted no
+ray of mellow light to slip through the chinks of shutter or curtain.
+From attic to cellar, the house seemed in darkness, the only suggestion
+of occupation coming from the occasional drawing back and forth of a
+small slide that guarded a monastic-looking grating set in the hall
+door.
+
+And yet towards this unlighted and unfriendly dwelling a thin stream of
+people--all on foot and all evidently agitated--made their way
+continuously on that January night between the hours of ten and eleven.
+The behavior of these people, who differed widely in outward
+characteristics, was marked by a peculiar fundamental similarity. They
+all entered the quiet precincts of the Crescent with the same air of
+subdued excitement; each moved softly and silently towards the darkened
+house, and, mounting the steps, knocked once upon the heavy door. And
+each in turn stood patient, while the slide was drawn back, and a voice
+from within demanded the signal that granted admittance.
+
+This mysterious gathering of forces had continued for nearly an hour
+when a cab drew up sharply at the corner where Hellier Crescent abuts
+upon St. George's Terrace, and a lady descended from it. As she handed
+his fare to the cabman, her face and figure were plainly visible in the
+light of the street-lamps. The former was pale in coloring, delicately
+oval in shape, and illumined by a pair of large and unusually brilliant
+eyes; the latter was tall, graceful, and clad in black.
+
+Having dismissed her cab, the new-comer crossed St. George's Terrace
+with an appearance of haste, and entering Hellier Crescent, immediately
+mounted the steps of No. 8.
+
+The last member of this strange procession had disappeared into the
+house as she reached the door; but, acting with apparent familiarity,
+she lifted the knocker and let it fall once.
+
+For a moment there was no response; then, as in the case of the former
+visitors, the slide was drawn back and a beam of light came through the
+grating, to be immediately obscured by the shadowy suggestion of a face
+with two inquiring eyes.
+
+"The Word?" demanded a solemn voice.
+
+The new-comer lifted her head.
+
+"He shall be Power made absolute!" she responded in a low and slightly
+tremulous voice; and a moment later the door opened, and she stepped
+into the hall.
+
+The scene inside the house was curious in the extreme. If there were
+quiet and darkness outside, a brilliant light and a tense, contagious
+excitement reigned within. The large hall, lighted by tall lamps, was
+covered with a thick black carpet into which the feet sank noiselessly,
+and the walls and ceiling were draped in the same sombre tint; but at
+intervals of a few feet, columns of white marble, chiselled into curious
+shapes, gleamed upon the observer from shadowy niches.
+
+On ordinary occasions, there was a solemnity, a coldness, in this sombre
+vestibule; but to-night a strange electric activity seemed to have been
+breathed upon the atmosphere. Women with flushed faces and men with
+feverishly bright eyes hurried to and fro in an irrepressible, aimless
+agitation. A blending of dread and hysterical anticipation was stamped
+upon every face. People stopped one another with nervous, unstrung
+gesture and odd, disjointed sentences.
+
+As the last comer entered, she paused for a moment, uncertain and
+hesitating; but almost as she did so, a remarkable-looking and massively
+built man who was standing in the hall, disengaged himself from a group
+of people, and, coming directly towards her, took her hand.
+
+"Mrs. Witcherley! At last!" he exclaimed, in a full, emotional voice. "I
+looked for you among the gathering and for a moment I almost feared--"
+
+"That I would fail?" Her voice was still tinged with agitation; the
+pupils of her large eyes were distended.
+
+"No, I did not mean that. But at such a moment we burn lest even one of
+the Elect be missing." He continued to hold her hand, looking into her
+face with his prominent dark eyes, from which flashed and glowed an
+excitement that spread over his whole heavy face.
+
+"The night of nights!" he exclaimed. "To have lived to witness it!" His
+face glowed with a sudden enthusiasm; and freeing her fingers, he lifted
+up his right hand. "'He shall walk into your midst--and sit above you as
+a King!'" he quoted, in a loud voice. Then remembering his companion, he
+lowered his tone.
+
+"Everything is in readiness," he added, more soberly. "The Precursor
+still unceasingly prophesies the Advent. Come with me into the Place.
+The Gathering is all but assembled." Laying his large hand upon her arm,
+he led her forward unresistingly through the groups of men and women,
+and onward down a long corridor to where a curtain hid an arched
+doorway.
+
+For a moment they paused outside this door, and the man--still laboring
+under some strange excitement--again raised his hand:
+
+"Come!" he cried. "And before we leave the Place, may the Hope of the
+Universe be fulfilled!" Lifting the curtain, he ushered her through the
+door.
+
+The room--or chapel--into which they stepped was large and lofty,
+covered on floor and walls with sections of marble alternately black and
+white; overhead swung a huge octagonal symbol in jewelled and polished
+metal; and at the end farthest from the door a haze of incense clouded
+what appeared to be an altar.
+
+A concourse of people filled every corner of this vast room; and from
+the crouched or upright figures rose a continuous, inaudible murmuring.
+
+Still guiding his companion, the massively built man forced a way
+between the closely packed figures. But, half-way up the room, the woman
+paused and glanced at him.
+
+"This will do," she whispered. "Not any nearer, please. Not any nearer."
+
+His only answer was to lay his hand upon her arm, and by a persistent
+pressure to draw her onward up the narrow aisle. Reaching the railed-in
+space about which the incense hung, he paused in his own turn and
+motioned her towards the foremost row of seats, from which the majority
+of the gathering seemed to hold aloof.
+
+With a quick, nervous gesture she deprecated the suggestion. "No! No!"
+she murmured. "Let me sit behind. Please let me sit behind."
+
+But his fingers tightened impressively upon her arm. "No," he whispered,
+close to her ear. "No, I want you to be here. When the time arrives, I
+want the full light to shine upon you."
+
+After this she demurred no more, but moved obediently into the appointed
+seat, her companion placing himself beside her.
+
+In the first moments of agitation and nervousness, she had scarcely
+observed her surroundings; but now, as her perturbation partially
+subsided, she looked back at the rows of bowed or erect figures, and
+forward at the space about which the incense clung like a filmy veil. At
+a first glance this veil seemed almost too dense to penetrate; but as
+her sight grew accustomed to its drifting whiteness, she was able to
+discern the objects that lay behind.
+
+In place of the altar, usually prominent in every religious building,
+there was a wide semicircular space, within which stood a gold chair
+raised upon a dais and a heavy lectern of symbolic design on which
+rested a white leather book, worn yellow at the edges. Over this book a
+man was poring, apparently unconscious of the active interest he evoked.
+He was short and thick-set, with a square jaw, a long upper lip, and
+keen eyes. Over a head of vividly red hair, he wore a round black silk
+cap, and his figure was enveloped in a flowing black gown.
+
+From time to time, as he read, he lifted one hand in rapt excitement,
+while his lips moved unceasingly in rapid, inaudible speech. At last,
+with a sudden dramatic gesture, he turned from the lectern and threw out
+both arms towards the high gold chair.
+
+"Oh, empty throne! Empty world!" he cried. "Be filled!"
+
+There was something intense, something electric in the words. A startled
+cry broke from the people, already wrought to nervous tension. Some
+among them rose to their feet; some glanced fearfully behind them;
+others cowered upon the ground.
+
+And then--in what precise manner no one present ever remembered--the
+curtain at the doorway of the chapel was swung sharply back; and the
+tall, straight figure of a man clad all in white moved slowly up the
+aisle.
+
+He moved forward calmly and deliberately, his gaze fixed, his senses
+apparently unconscious of the many eyes and tongues from which
+frightened glances and frightened, awe-struck words escaped as he made
+his solitary, impressive progress.
+
+Reaching the railing, he paused and lifted one hand as if in benediction
+towards the red-haired man who still remained in solitary occupation of
+the Sanctuary.
+
+At the action, a gasp went up from the crowded chapel, and even those
+who still crouched upon the floor ventured to raise their heads and
+glance at the spot where the tall figure in the white serge robe stood
+motionless and impressive. Then the whole concourse of devotees stirred
+in involuntary excitement as the red-haired man, with a cry of rapture,
+rushed forward and prostrated himself at the feet of the stranger.
+
+For a space, that to the watchers seemed interminable, the two central
+figures remained rigid; then at last the tall man stooped, and with
+great dignity raised the other.
+
+As he gained his feet, it was obvious that the smaller man was deeply
+agitated. His lips were trembling with some strange emotion, and it
+seemed that he could scarcely command his gestures. After a protracted
+moment of struggle, however, he appeared to regain his self-control; for
+with a slightly tremulous movement he stepped forward, laid his hands on
+the low railing and glanced at the assembled people.
+
+"Mystics!" he began. "Chosen Ones! Out of the Unseen I have come to
+prophesy to you--I, an obscure servant and follower of the Mighty. For
+fifteen days have I spoken--telling you that which was at hand. And now,
+behold I am justified!" He paused and indicated the tall white figure
+still standing motionless, with face averted from the congregation.
+
+"What have I told you!" he continued, his voice rising. "Have I not
+quoted from the sacred Scitsym--which until this hour I have never been
+permitted to look upon? Have I not foretold the coming of this man--the
+garments he would wear--the Sign upon his person? And have I not done
+these things by a power outside myself?" Again his voice rose; and the
+congregation thrilled in response.
+
+"You have listened to me--you have marvelled--but in your Souls doubt
+has held sway. Now is the moment of justification! It is not meet that
+the Great One should plead for recognition; it is for you--the
+Watchers--to see and claim him. Master!" he cried, suddenly. "Master,
+show them the Sign!"
+
+A hush like the hush of night fell upon the people; and in this curious
+and impressive lull the white-robed man turned slowly round facing the
+congregation.
+
+His appearance was arresting and remarkable, though it possessed nothing
+of beauty. He had a tall and powerful figure, a strong and determined
+face; his bare head was covered with close-cut black hair; his hard,
+firm lips were clean-shaven, and his gray eyes looked across the chapel
+with a peculiar sombre fire.
+
+He stood silent for a moment, surveying the faces clustered before him;
+then he raised his left hand.
+
+[Illustration: "ACROSS THE PROPHET'S BREAST, IN MARKS OF A CRUEL
+LACERATION, RAN THE SYMBOLIC OCTAGONAL FIGURE OF THE MYSTIC SECT"]
+
+"My People!" he began, in a deep, slow voice. "We live in an age when
+doubt roams through the world like a beast of prey. I ask not for the
+faith that accepts blindly; but in this most sacred Scitsym--" he
+pointed to the white book upon the lectern--"it is written that, by a
+certain secret Sign, the Arch-Mystics will recognize Him for whom they
+have waited. I call upon the Arch-Mystics to declare whether or no I
+bear upon my person that secret Sign!" He paused for a moment; then with
+a grave, calm gesture he unfastened his robe where it crossed his breast
+and threw it open.
+
+There was a rustle of intense curiosity, as all involuntarily leaned
+forward; an audible gasp of awe and shrinking, as all instinctively drew
+back before the sight that confronted them. Across the Prophet's breast,
+in marks of a cruel laceration, ran the symbolic octagonal figure of the
+Mystic sect.
+
+He stood dignified and unmoved until the tremor of emotion had subsided.
+Then his glance travelled over the foremost row of seats.
+
+"Come forth!" he commanded, authoritatively. "Come forth and acknowledge
+me!" His eyes moved slowly from seat to seat--pausing momentarily on
+the pale, absorbed face of the woman in black. But scarcely had his
+glance rested upon her than the heavily built man who sat beside her,
+rose agitatedly and stepped forward to the sanctuary. For a space he
+stood staring at the scarred skin from which the symbol of his creed
+stood forth as if miraculously branded; then he turned to the
+congregation, his prominent eyes burning, his heavy face working with
+emotion.
+
+"Brethren," he said, inarticulately. "Brethren, it is indeed the Sign!"
+
+But the Prophet remained motionless.
+
+"Where are the other five?" he asked, in a level voice.
+
+Almost simultaneously four men rose from the congregation and came
+forward. One was tall and gaunt, with a Slavonic type of face, wild
+eyes, and a long, fair beard; another was young--scarcely more than
+seven and twenty--with the free carriage, fiery glance, and swarthy
+complexion of the nomadic races of southeastern Europe; the third was a
+small, frail man of fifty, with a nervous system painfully in advance of
+his physical strength; while the fourth was a true mystic--impassioned,
+enthusiastic, detached. One by one these men advanced, examined the
+scars, and turning to the people, confirmed the words of their fellow.
+Then, amid a tremulous hush, the last of the six--the Arch-Councillor
+himself--was led up the aisle.
+
+For an instant the glimmering of some new feeling crossed the Prophet's
+face, as his glance rested on the old man who slowly approached with
+feeble steps, bent back, and anxious, sightless eyes. But, as quickly as
+it had come, the expression passed, and he stepped forward for the old
+man's touch.
+
+With a quivering gesture the Arch-Councillor lifted his hand and
+nervously passed his fingers over the scars; then, drawing the Prophet
+down, he touched his face. For a long moment of suspense his fingers
+lingered over the features; then they fell again upon the scars. And an
+instant later he sank upon his knees.
+
+"It is indeed made manifest!" he cried, in a loud, unsteady voice. "He
+shall sit above you as upon a Throne!"
+
+The words were magical. The whole concourse of people swayed forward
+hysterically. Men pressed upward towards the railing; women wept.
+
+And through it all the Prophet stood unmoved. He stood like a rock
+against which the clamorous human sea beat wildly. With a quiet movement
+he drew his robe across his breast, hiding the unsightly scars, but
+otherwise he made no motion. At last the red-haired man who had first
+claimed him, stepped forward to his side.
+
+"Speak to them, Master!" he said.
+
+The words roused the Prophet. With a calm gesture he raised his head,
+his eyes confronting the mass of strained, excited faces lifted to his.
+
+"My People," he said again, in his deep voice. "What will you do with
+me?"
+
+The response was instant.
+
+"The Throne! The Throne!" The crowd surged forward in a wave, then
+receded as the tide recedes; and the old Arch-Councillor stepped feebly
+into the Sanctuary and extended his hands to the Prophet.
+
+It was a moment of breathless awe. The tall woman, who until that moment
+had remained seated, involuntarily rose to her feet.
+
+She saw the figure of the Prophet move grandly across the Sanctuary in
+the wake of the old blind man; she saw him halt for an infinitesimal
+space at the foot of the throne; she saw him calmly and decisively mount
+the steps of the dais and seat himself in the golden chair. Then,
+prompted by an overwhelming impulse, she yielded to the spirit of the
+moment and dropped to her knees.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+Three hours later, when the curious rite of acknowledgment had been
+completed and the concourse of zealots had departed from Hellier
+Crescent, the first night in his new kingdom opened for the Prophet. As
+the clocks of Brompton were striking two, the six Arch-Mystics--each of
+whom possessed rooms in a remote portion of the house--lingeringly and
+fearfully bade him good-night, and left him alone with the Precursor in
+the apartments that for nearly fifty years had been kept swept and
+garnished in expectation of his advent.
+
+Apart from their suggestion of the mystical and fantastic, these rooms
+possessed an intrinsic interest of their own. And some consciousness of
+this interest appeared to be at work within the Prophet's mind; for
+scarcely had he and his companion been assured of privacy, than he rose
+from the massive ivory chair which had been apportioned to him and from
+which he had made his second and private justification of his claims;
+and very slowly and deliberately began a circuit of the chamber.
+
+With engrossed attention he passed from one to another of the rare and
+costly objects that formed the furniture of the place; while, from the
+ebony table in the centre of the room, his red-haired companion watched
+him with vigilant eyes.
+
+Still moving with unruffled deliberation, he completed his tour of the
+apartment; then a remarkable--a startling thing took place. He wheeled
+round, laid his hands heavily on the Precursor's shoulders, and looking
+closely into his face, broke into speech.
+
+"Well?" he demanded, intensely. "Well? Well? What have you to say?"
+
+At first the red-haired man sat watching him, mute and motionless; then
+with a suddenness equal to his own, he released himself, leaned forward
+in his chair, and silently uncorked a gold flask that stood upon the
+table before him. Lifting it high, he poured some wine into two glass
+goblets, and without a word handed one to the white-robed Prophet, and
+himself picked up the other.
+
+"John," he said, deliberately, "you were magnificent! Let me give you a
+toast? Power! Power made Absolute!"
+
+With a grave gesture the Prophet extended his hand, and their glasses
+clinked.
+
+"Power made Absolute!" he responded, in a low, deep voice.
+
+In silence they drank the toast; but, as he replaced his glass upon the
+table, the Prophet shook off his gravity, and turned again to his
+companion.
+
+"Now!" he exclaimed. "Now! Out with it all! How much of this has been
+native adroitness, and how much unbelievable good-fortune? Out with it!
+I'm hungry and thirsty for the truth."
+
+For answer the Precursor slowly lifted the gold flask and replenished
+his own glass. "Truth in a golden flask! But, to throw a sop to your
+curiosity, it was a matter of native genius engineered by Providence. I
+don't mind admitting that when I stood on the doorstep of this house
+fifteen nights ago and knocked the mystic knock, I felt like a man
+embarking on a coffin-ship." He stopped to drain his glass.
+
+The Prophet took a step forward.
+
+"And then?" he said, eagerly. "Then?"
+
+The other waved his empty glass.
+
+"Oh, there entered the native genius of Terence Dominick Devereaux!
+Under that tremendous escort I stormed the citadel--"
+
+The Prophet smiled. "And the Mystic ears, I have no doubt."
+
+For a third time the Precursor filled his glass.
+
+"The tongue is mightier--and a good deal more portable--than either the
+pen or the sword, John," he said, sagely. "Paving your way with words
+has been an unrecognized work of art. But how about yourself? I have my
+own curiosity." He wheeled round in his seat and looked into his
+companion's face.
+
+The Prophet looked away.
+
+"Oh, I had my qualms, too!" he said, slowly. "Just for a moment the
+world seemed to tremble, when the old Arch-Councillor groped forward and
+put his hands over my face. It swept me off my feet--swept me back ten
+years. It was like a vision in a crystal--if such a thing could exist. I
+saw the whole past scene. The bare room--the old dead man--myself; the
+overwhelming wish to avenge my wrongs, and the sudden suggestion that
+turned the wish cold. I saw the long, bleak night in which I completed
+the colossal task of copying the Scitsym line for line; I saw the gray
+morning steal in across the room as I closed the book, returned it to
+its safe and replaced the key on my uncle's neck in preparation for the
+arrival of the Arch-Councillor. It all passed before my mind, and then
+in a flash was gone. I ceased to be John Henderson."
+
+The Precursor glanced quickly towards the door.
+
+"Avoid that name. Habits grow--and so do suspicions. Your probation has
+been too long and too hard to permit us to run risks. Now that you've
+stepped into your kingdom--" He made an expressive gesture.
+
+The Prophet laughed shortly, then suddenly turned grave again.
+
+"You are right!" he said. "Only a man with a light conscience can skate
+on thin ice. To return to our original subject, what about the inner
+workings of this odd game? It is so curious to have lived for years on
+theory, and suddenly to come face to face with practice. I tell you I'm
+starving for facts." He stepped forward quickly and dropped into a chair
+that faced his companion's.
+
+"Out with it all! To begin, who is the master-spirit? You know what I
+mean. The master-spirit in the true sense. Poor old blind Arian doesn't
+stand for much."
+
+The Precursor looked meditatively at his empty glass.
+
+"No," he said, thoughtfully. "You touch truth there! Michael Arian is
+the cipher; Bale-Corphew's the meaning. Bale-Corphew is an interesting
+man, John--I had almost said a dangerous man--"
+
+The Prophet's lip curled slightly.
+
+"Dangerous!"
+
+"Yes; dangerous in a sense. In the sense that a personality always is
+dangerous. Among the six Arch-Mystics there is, to my thinking, only one
+_man_, and he interests me. He interests me, does Horatio
+Bale-Corphew!"
+
+The Prophet leaned forward in his chair.
+
+"I think I catch your meaning," he said. "Something of the same idea
+occurred to me when he rose from his seat to-night. While we spied upon
+them in the last six months, he always struck me as curiously
+un-English, with that sleek exterior and those flashing eyes of his. But
+in the chapel to-night he was almost aggressively alien. When he touched
+my arm I could literally feel him bristle."
+
+The other nodded.
+
+"You've said it!" he cried. "Horatio bristles! His whole queer soul is
+in this business--every fibre of it. He attempts no division of
+allegiance--except, perhaps, in the matter of the heart--"
+
+The Prophet glanced up and smiled.
+
+"The heart? Do my faithful Watchers permit themselves hearts? The
+Scitsym makes no provision for such frail organs."
+
+The Precursor laughed again.
+
+"Oh, we Elect are by no means free from little saving weaknesses! That's
+where we become dramatic. You can't have effect without contrast.
+Horatio, for instance, is instinctively dramatic."
+
+"Indeed!"
+
+"Yes. Oh yes! I know what I'm saying. I've studied them all. More than
+once, when my Soul has been communing with your August Spirit, I have
+watched Horatio's dramatic contrast from the corner of my eyes."
+
+Again the Prophet smiled.
+
+"The contrast frequents the chapel then?"
+
+"Frequents? Undoubtedly. Horatio has literally swept her into the fold.
+She was here to-night to bend the knee to you."
+
+A look of recollection crossed the Prophet's eyes.
+
+"To-night?" he said. "Not the woman who sat beside him? The woman with
+the big eyes? She and Bale-Corphew! The idea is absurd!"
+
+"Undeniable, nevertheless. I have deduced the story. The lady is
+a widow--no relations--too much freedom--vague aspirations after
+the ideal. She has sounded society and found it too shallow;
+sounded philosophy and found it too deep; and upon her horizon
+of desires and disappointments has loomed the colossal presence of
+Bale-Corphew--enthusiast, mystic, leader of a fascinatingly unorthodox
+sect. What is the result? The lady--too feminine to be truly modern, too
+modern to be wholly womanly--is viewing life through new glasses, and by
+their medium seeing Horatio invested with a halo otherwise invisible."
+
+The Prophet remained quiet and silent; then he rose slowly from his seat
+and walked round the table. "Devereaux," he said, laconically, "only the
+Prophet is going to wear a halo here."
+
+The Precursor's sharply marked, expressive eyebrows went up in quick
+comment.
+
+"Can even a latter-day Prophet afford autocracy?"
+
+For a space the Prophet made no response; then he took a step forward
+and laid his hand impressively on his friend's shoulder.
+
+"Devereaux," he said, in a new voice--a voice that unconsciously held
+something of the command that had marked it in the chapel--"the Prophet
+of the Mystics has come to rule. He has not come to follow the laws that
+others--that men like Bale-Corphew--have seen fit to make. He has come
+to be a law unto himself!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+It is astonishing in how short a space of time a man of vigorous
+character can make his personality felt. On the night of his mysterious
+advent, the Prophet had found his people in a condition of mental
+chaos--as liable to repudiate as to accept the seeker for their
+confidence; but before one month had passed he had, by domination of
+will, so moulded this neurotic mass of humanity that his own position
+had gradually and insensibly merged from suppliant into that of
+autocrat. Without a murmur of doubt or dissension the Mystics had
+proclaimed him their king.
+
+On the last day of the thirty he sat alone in his room--the room in
+which he and the red-haired Precursor had held their private council on
+the night of his coming. The heavy purple curtains that shielded the
+windows were partly drawn, throwing a subdued, almost a devotional,
+light over the wide, imposing apartment and across the ebony table, on
+which rested the sacred Scitsym, surrounded by an array of smaller and
+more ancient books, several rolls of parchment, a number of quill pens,
+and a dish of ink. It was at this table that the Prophet sat; he wore
+the monastic white robe that he always affected in presence of his
+people, his arms were folded, and his face looked calm and grave, as
+though he appreciated the moment's solitude.
+
+The solitude, however, was not destined to endure. The soft booming of a
+gong presently roused him to attention, and a moment later the door of
+the apartment opened and an ascetic-looking man, whose duty and
+privilege it was to wait upon him, entered deferentially.
+
+He stood for a moment in an attitude of profound abasement; then he
+stepped forward and stood beside the table.
+
+"Master," he said, in a low voice. "The newest among us would speak with
+you!"
+
+The Prophet raised his head and a gleam of interest crossed his eyes;
+but almost immediately he subdued the look.
+
+"I am willing," he replied, unemotionally, in the usual formula. Then he
+glanced at his attendant. "After this, the audiences for the day are
+over," he added.
+
+The man bowed, and with awe-struck deference moved silently from the
+room, almost immediately reappearing, to usher in the devotee, and with
+the same conscious air of mystery, to retire, closing the heavy door.
+
+For a moment the new-comer stood just inside the threshold. As on the
+night of the Prophet's coming, she wore a long, black dress that
+accentuated her height and grace, and brought into prominence the clear
+pallor of her skin and the remarkable luminous brilliance of her eyes. A
+struggle between superstitious dread and human curiosity was distinctly
+visible in her expression as she stood uncertain of her position,
+doubtful as to her first move.
+
+The Prophet glanced at her, and the shadow of a smile touched his lips.
+
+"Have no fear," he said. "Come forward!"
+
+The strong, steady voice gave her courage, and with slightly agitated
+haste she stepped towards the table.
+
+The Prophet gravely motioned her to a seat and assumed an attitude of
+attention. Upon each of the thirty mornings he had sat in this same
+position in his ivory chair, while, one after another, the members of
+the sect had claimed audience with him. Morning after morning he had
+exhibited the same grave, aloof interest--his hands clasped, his eyes
+upon the Scitsym--while the fearful, the fanatical, the hysterical had
+poured forth their tales of struggle or aspiration. But now, on this
+last morning, he was conscious of a new suggestion, a new impression in
+what had grown to be routine. This last aspirant for spiritual light was
+neither fanatical nor hysterical, was scarcely even imbued with fear.
+Something within his brain responded to the idea, to the reassuring
+human curiosity that gleamed in her eyes. He found himself waiting for
+her first words with an impatience that no other member of the
+congregation had aroused.
+
+But the wait was long--disconcertingly long. The aspirant glanced
+uncertainly about the room, as if unwilling or unable to break into
+speech; then at last she raised her head, and, with an effort, met the
+Prophet's eyes.
+
+"I'm terribly nervous!" she said, in an irresistibly feminine voice.
+
+The effect upon her hearer was instantaneous. The distant and spiritual
+aloofness, so easy to assume in the presence of the credulous, became
+suddenly a matter of impossibility. With a quiet dignity that had more
+of masculine protectiveness than of mystical inspiration he turned to
+her afresh.
+
+"Have no fear!" he answered, gently. "My only desire is to help you.
+Tell me everything that is in your mind."
+
+She leaned forward quickly. "You--you are most kind--" she began. Then
+again she halted.
+
+But he took no notice of her embarrassment.
+
+"Why have you never come before?" he asked. "Had you no doubts to be set
+at rest?" He spoke so quietly that her nervousness forsook her, and with
+a swift impulse she glanced up at him.
+
+"I--I think I was afraid," she said, candidly. "You see, I am not
+exactly one of the others--"
+
+"You did not quite believe that the One you had waited for had really
+come?" His voice was low and tinged with some inscrutable meaning.
+
+"Oh no! No; it was not that. Before you came, I confess I was sceptical;
+I confess I did not believe that any one would come, that there was any
+truth--any real meaning--in the sect. But then--when you did come--"
+
+The Prophet lifted his head.
+
+"When I did come?" he asked, sharply.
+
+"The whole thing was different--"
+
+"The whole thing was different?" he repeated, slowly and meditatively.
+By a curious process of suggestion and recollection, something of his
+own experiences in the realm of mental upheaval rose with her words. He
+studied the pale face and brilliant eyes with a fresh and more intimate
+interest.
+
+"The whole thing was different?" he said once more, in his slow, deep
+voice.
+
+The warm color flooded her face. "Yes," she admitted. "Yes. You seemed
+the one real person--the one sane thing in the whole ceremony. I felt--I
+knew that you were--strong." She paused, alarmed at her own timidity;
+and again their eyes met.
+
+"And why have you never come to me before?" He had no particular meaning
+in the question; he was only conscious of an inexplicable wish to
+prolong the interview.
+
+"Oh, I don't know--I scarcely know." Again she spoke quickly and
+nervously. "I have come every night to hear you speak--I have loved to
+hear you speak. But--but to be alone with you--" She paused,
+expressively. "It is all so strange--so extraordinary. It doesn't seem
+to belong to the present day--" She looked up at him in appealing
+perplexity.
+
+"And why did you come now?"
+
+"Why? Oh, because--because I could not stay away."
+
+For the first time the Prophet was conscious of a tremor of
+discomfiture; for the first time the spectacle of his fraud, as seen
+from a point of view other than his own, touched him unpleasantly. He
+moved slightly in his massive chair.
+
+"In this life," he said, with a sudden, almost incontinent assumption of
+his Prophetic manner, "we must be ever careful to distinguish the Wine
+from the Vessel that contains it. I endeavor, with all the Power I am
+possessed of, to impress upon my People that I have come, not to _be_
+the Way, but to _show_ the Way! To teach you all that what you seek in
+me, is in each one of you. Every man is his own Prophet, if he but knew
+it!" As he spoke he turned his eyes upon the Scitsym, and the hard,
+inscrutable look that so dominated his followers descended upon his
+face. As he reached the last words, he glanced again at his companion,
+but as his eyes rested on her face he paused disconcerted. She was
+gazing at him with a candid, spontaneous admiration infinitely more
+human and infinitely more irresistible than the neurotic adoration that
+was daily lavished on him. With an odd, inexplicable sense of guilt, he
+rose quickly from his seat.
+
+"Do not forget--do not allow yourself to forget that this is my
+teaching," he said. "That you have each within yourselves the thing you
+demand in me. Look for it within yourselves! Rely upon yourselves!"
+
+As he ceased, she also rose. She was pale, and trembled slightly.
+
+"But if one cannot follow that teaching?" she asked. "If one longs to
+rely upon some one else? If one cannot rely upon one's self?"
+
+The Prophet made no answer. He stood with one hand resting on the table,
+his gaze fixed upon the book.
+
+Emboldened by his silence, she approached him by a step.
+
+"I think I could believe--" she murmured. "I think I could
+believe--anything, if I might learn it from you." She paused
+pleadingly; then, as he still stood unresponsive, the color rushed again
+into her face.
+
+"I--I have been presumptuous," she said. "I have offended you."
+
+Something in her tone, in her charming unaffected humility stung him.
+For the first time in his career as Prophet, the blood surged hotly and
+painfully into his face.
+
+"Do not say that!" he began, impulsively; then he checked himself. "I am
+here to teach my People," he added. "All my People--without exception."
+
+For one moment she studied his face half doubtfully; then at last her
+own emotions conquered her doubt.
+
+"Then I may come again?"
+
+He did not reply at once; and when at last his words did come, his voice
+was unusually irresolute and low.
+
+"You may come--at any time," he said, without meeting her eyes.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+So it came about that the serpent of misgiving entered into the
+Prophet's paradise. With Enid Witcherley's words, the realization of his
+true position had been unpleasantly suggested to him, and the grain of
+doubt had been scattered over the banquet he had set himself to enjoy.
+It was one thing to fool men who yearned to be fooled--even to fool
+women whose peculiarities set them apart from their sex; but it was
+indisputably another matter to dupe a young and confiding girl, who came
+with all the fascination of modern doubt, counterbalanced by the charm
+of feminine credulity.
+
+Long after she left him, he had paced up and down the room in perplexity
+of spirit, until at last, with a sudden contempt for his own weakness,
+he had turned to where the white binding of the Scitsym caught the
+subdued light. The sight of the book had nerved him, as it never failed
+to do; but for all his regained firmness, the sense of uneasy shame had
+remained with him during the day; and that night, when he addressed his
+people, he had instinctively guarded his glance from resting on the
+seats that fronted the Sanctuary.
+
+But now that first interview was past by three weeks, and Enid's daily
+visits to the great room where he gave audience to the congregation had
+become one of the recognized events of the twenty-four hours. The sense
+of shame returned periodically; but on each renewal of the feeling he
+salved his conscience more and more successfully with the assurance that
+to her, as to himself, the Mystics were in reality nothing but the
+products of a neurotic age--mere hysterical dabblers in the truths of
+the universe. She was too delicately feminine, he told himself with
+growing conviction, too intelligent and self-controlled, to be more than
+temporarily attracted to any such exotic creed. She might toy with it
+for a while, but the day must inevitably dawn when common-sense and the
+need of surer things would send her back into the broad channel of
+simple, satisfying Christianity. For a space this unnatural state of
+things would last; for a space their curious companionship would
+continue--their long, intimate talks would make life something new and
+wonderful; then--But there, for some unexplained reason, speculation
+invariably stopped.
+
+So things stood on the fiftieth morning after her first coming. The
+stream of suppliants for his favor was all but exhausted, and he awaited
+to give the last audience of the day.
+
+After the moment of quiet and solitude that always separated the
+interviews, the sonorous gong announced the last visitor; the silent,
+ascetic attendant threw open the door and Enid entered.
+
+This time she displayed none of the hesitancy that had marked her early
+manner. She came towards the table with quick, assured steps, her face
+bright with anticipation.
+
+As she approached, the Prophet rose. It was remarkable that he no longer
+retained his sitting position when she entered the room, as was his
+custom with the other members of the sect. Involuntarily and almost
+unconsciously he extended to her the ordinary courtesies that man
+instinctively offers to woman.
+
+As she reached the table, she glanced up at him, and something of the
+pleasure died out of her face.
+
+"You look tired," she said, softly.
+
+He smiled.
+
+"Does that disappoint you?"
+
+His tone confused her.
+
+"Oh no! No!" Then she colored slightly and glanced at him again. "Why do
+you ask?"
+
+"Because it is the way of humanity to refuse any common weakness to its
+leaders--spiritual or temporal."
+
+Again a wave of color crossed her skin. "But surely--"
+
+"Surely what?"
+
+She glanced away; then, seeming to gather up her courage, she looked
+back at him.
+
+"I mean," she said, slowly, "that some people are so strong that they
+may be allowed to have anything--"
+
+"Even weaknesses--" Once more he smiled. It was significant how,
+gradually and indisputably, the tone of teacher had dropped out of his
+conversation. Neither could have told the date on which the change had
+occurred--perhaps neither was conscious that it had even taken place.
+But the fact remained that, with her, he no longer felt compelled to
+hold aloof; that, with her, he had discarded the allegorical manner of
+speech, and had begun to show himself as he naturally was.
+
+"Even weaknesses?" he said again, as she made no attempt to answer.
+
+At the words her eyes once more met his.
+
+"Yes," she said, with new resolution--"yes, even weaknesses. I often
+think that it is because you are so--so human that you hold us as you
+do. It seems right that a Prophet should belong to the people he has
+come to teach. All the prophets of the world have essentially belonged
+to their own times. If you had sat upon the Throne all day and communed
+with your Soul, I should have been very much afraid of you; but I should
+never have believed in you as I do now, when you talk to me and advise
+me and help me like--like a friend." Her voice trembled slightly.
+
+A peculiar expression crossed the Prophet's face.
+
+"So I seem a--friend?"
+
+"More than a friend. I can never tell you what you have been to me--what
+you have done for me. I have never been so happy--so satisfied in my
+life, as in these last three weeks. Every disappointment and
+dissatisfaction seems to have slipped away; I seem to have been living
+in some calm, beautiful, restful atmosphere--" She paused, her face as
+well as her voice tinged with a subtle excitement.
+
+"It may be very selfish, but I wish that these days could go on forever.
+I know that, for you, they are only a probation; that you must crave for
+the moment when, having taught us everything, you will go out into the
+world and teach the Unbelievers. I know all that, and I know it is only
+right, but--but I hate to think of it!" A sudden break came in her
+voice.
+
+"You hate to think that all this must end?"
+
+Again their eyes met; but, as though the contact of glances embarrassed
+her, Enid looked away.
+
+"Yes, I do hate it. Do you despise me for being so selfish--so jealous
+of those other people who will take our place?"
+
+For a moment the Prophet made no reply. In the dim light of the room,
+the muscles of his hard face looked set; his strong hands were clasped.
+
+"Do you despise me?" she asked again.
+
+"It is not for me to judge any one--you least of all," he answered,
+without looking at her.
+
+At the subdued tone, the unexpected words, she turned to him
+apprehensively.
+
+"You are angry with me?"
+
+"Indeed, no."
+
+"Then what is it? What have I done--or said?"
+
+He remained silent.
+
+In her sudden distress she leaned forward in her chair, looking into
+his face with new solicitude.
+
+"I know--I feel that I have displeased you. Won't you tell me what I
+have done?"
+
+As she put the question, she laid one gloved hand upon the table; and
+though the Prophet's eyes were fixed upon the Scitsym, he was conscious
+in every fibre of the appeal the unstudied gesture made--as he was
+poignantly conscious of the clear eyes, the soft dark hair, the
+questioning upturned face.
+
+For an interminable time the silence remained unbroken; at last, with a
+little sound of fresh distress, Enid bent still nearer.
+
+"Oh, I understand!" she exclaimed. "I understand! You think I have taken
+advantage of your goodness. You think I have imagined that, because you
+are kind and patient and tolerant, I might look upon you as--as a man."
+As she said the word she paused, frightened by her own timidity.
+
+But as suddenly the Prophet wheeled round and laid his fingers over
+hers. The pressure of his hand was like steel, the expression of his
+face was altered and disturbed.
+
+"If you only knew--" he said, sharply--"if you only knew how I have
+longed to hear you say just that one word _man_!" He paused almost
+triumphantly, his eyes searching her frightened face, his fingers
+gripping hers.
+
+For an instant she sat petrified and fascinated; then a faint sound of
+alarm escaped her, and she turned towards the door.
+
+Without the formality of the announcing gong, two men had entered the
+room, and stood silent spectators of the tableau. One was Devereaux, the
+Precursor; the other was Horatio Bale-Corphew.
+
+For one embarrassed moment all four looked at each other; then the
+Precursor hastened to save the situation. He made a long, profound
+obeisance, and stepped deferentially to the table.
+
+"Your pardon, Master!" he murmured. "We knew not that the immutable
+Soul was speaking from within you, calling one among us towards the
+Light!" He glanced quickly over his shoulder to where the massive form
+and agitated face of Bale-Corphew was framed in the doorway.
+
+At his peremptory look the Arch-Mystic seemed to gather himself
+together. Stepping forward, he made a slightly tardy reverence.
+
+"Master," he said, huskily, "what the Precursor tells you is the truth.
+Seeing the threshold unguarded, we concluded that the audiences for the
+day were over." His prominent brown eyes were filled with conflicting
+expressions as he turned them on the Prophet.
+
+But the Prophet remained unmoved. The hard look had returned to his
+face, the stern rigidity to his figure. Very slowly he released the hand
+that still trembled under his own.
+
+"The time of the Prophet belongs to his People," he said, with dignity.
+"He holds audience whenever, wherever, and _however_ it is expedient.
+Speak, my son! In what can I serve you?"
+
+Bale-Corphew looked at him in silence. Whatever he had come to say
+appeared to have escaped his mind. For a while inaction reigned in the
+room; then, with a pale face and nervous manner, Enid rose, bowed to the
+Prophet, and moved noiselessly to the door.
+
+All three watched her until she had disappeared; then Bale-Corphew found
+voice again.
+
+"Master," he murmured, hurriedly, "with your permission, I also would
+leave the Presence;" and with a perturbed gesture, he too bowed and
+passed out of the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+On a crisp, cold afternoon, one week after her interview with the
+Prophet, Enid Witcherley sat in the drawing-room of her London flat. The
+early portion of the day had been pleasantly warmed and brightened by
+the pale March sunshine; but at three o'clock a searching wind had begun
+to blow across the city from the east; and now, as the small gold clock
+on her bureau chimed the hour of five, she rose from the couch where she
+had been sitting, and, crossing the room with a little shiver, drew a
+chair to the fire and pressed the electric bell.
+
+As the maid appeared, in answer to her summons, she gave her order
+without looking round.
+
+"Tea, Norris!" she said, in an unusually curt and laconic voice.
+
+For a considerable time after the maid's departure she sat motionless,
+her hands stretched out towards the blazing logs, her large eyes
+absently watching the firelight on her many and beautiful rings. When
+the woman reappeared, and, noiselessly arranging the tea-table, moved it
+to her side, she scarcely glanced up; and to the most superficial
+observer it would have been patent that her own thoughts and
+speculations fully absorbed her mind.
+
+She retained her contemplative attitude after the servant had withdrawn
+for the second time, and it is doubtful how long she would have remained
+sunk in apparent lethargy had not the unexpected sound of the hall-door
+bell caused her to start into an upright position with a little
+exclamation of surprise and impatience.
+
+As she sat listening with nervous intentness, the door opened, and once
+more Norris appeared. After a second's hesitation she crossed to her
+mistress.
+
+"There's a gentleman at the door, ma'am," she said, deprecatingly.
+
+Enid looked up, a frown still darkening her forehead.
+
+"I told you I was not at home."
+
+"I know, ma'am, but--" Norris hesitated.
+
+"But what? I told you I was not to be disturbed. I _won't_ be
+disturbed." With a gesture plainly indicative of high-strung nerves, she
+turned to the table and poured herself out a cup of tea.
+
+The maid glanced behind her towards the door. "But the gentleman won't
+go, ma'am--"
+
+"Won't go!" In her surprise Enid laid down the cup she had been about to
+raise to her lips. "Who is he?" she demanded.
+
+Norris looked down. "I don't know, ma'am. I told him you were not at
+home, but he won't go. He's the sort of gentleman who won't take no for
+an answer."
+
+"I don't understand you. Who is he? What is he like?" Unconsciously and
+involuntarily Enid's tone quickened. Something in the woman's
+words--something undefined and yet suggestive--stirred and agitated her.
+
+Norris seemed to choose her words. "Well, ma'am," she answered, slowly,
+"he's very tall--and not like any other gentleman that comes here. I
+can't rightly explain it, miss, he seems used to having his own way--"
+
+As she halted, uncertain how to choose her words, Enid rose nervously.
+She could not have defined her emotions, but some feeling at once vague
+and portentous was working in her mind.
+
+"Did he give no name?"
+
+"No, ma'am. I was to say that he was some one that must be seen. He'd
+give no name."
+
+For a further instant Enid was silent, conscious of nothing but her own
+unsteady pulses; then suddenly she turned almost angrily upon the
+servant.
+
+"Show him in!" she cried. "Show him in at once! Don't keep him standing
+at the door."
+
+In some confusion Norris turned and walked across the room. At the
+doorway she paused and looked back.
+
+"Will you have the lights on, ma'am?"
+
+"No. No; the fire makes light enough. I like twilight and a fire. Don't
+stand waiting!"
+
+The woman departed; and for a space that seemed to her interminable,
+Enid stood beside the fireplace, motionless with hope, dread, and an
+almost uncontrollable nervousness. At last, as in a dream, she saw the
+door open and the tall, characteristic figure of the Prophet move into
+the room.
+
+She was vaguely aware that he halted for a moment, as if undecided as
+to his action, while Norris retired, softly closing the door. Then, with
+a sudden leap of the heart, she was conscious that he was coming towards
+her across the shadowed room.
+
+He moved straight forward until he was close beside her; and, with one
+of his decisive, imperious gestures, he put out both hands and caught
+hers.
+
+"It was a case of Mohammed and the mountain!" he said, in his grave
+voice. "You wouldn't come to me; I _had_ to come to you."
+
+No sound escaped her. She stood before him mutely, her face paling and
+flushing, her hands fluttering in his.
+
+There was a slight pause; and again he bent towards her.
+
+"Why have you stayed away?"
+
+She hesitated for a moment, spellbound by her emotion; then, making a
+sudden effort, she looked up. "I--I was afraid." Her voice was so low
+and shaken that the words were a mere whisper.
+
+"Afraid? Afraid of what?"
+
+She made no answer.
+
+"Of what? Of Bale-Corphew?" He gave a slight, sarcastic laugh.
+
+"No!" She looked up sharply. "Oh no!"
+
+"Then of what? Of me?" His voice suddenly sank, and the pressure of his
+fingers tightened.
+
+"No! Oh, I don't know! I don't know!" With a tremulous gesture she tried
+to withdraw her hands.
+
+At the movement, he suddenly drew her towards him. "Tell me!" he said.
+"I want to know. I must know!"
+
+For the first time since he had entered the room, her glance rested
+fully on his face. The light was uncertain, but as her gaze concentrated
+itself, a new look--a look of wonder and alarm--sprang across her eyes.
+In the seven days since they had spoken together, a change had fallen
+on him. Some alteration she could not define had grown into his
+expression; the cold mastery of himself and others was still visible;
+but a new emotion had insensibly been created--something powerful and
+even dominant--for which she could find no name. With a sharp,
+instinctive alarm, her lips parted.
+
+"What is it?" she said, apprehensively. "Why are you here? The time has
+not come for you to go out into the world?"
+
+A faintly ironic smile flitted across his lips.
+
+"Surely, if one is a Prophet, one can alter even prophecies."
+
+He said the words deliberately, looking down into her face.
+
+The tone, the intentional flippancy of the words, came to her with a
+shock. It was as if, by considered action, he had set about jeopardizing
+his own dignity. A chill of undefined apprehension blew across her mind
+like a cold wind.
+
+"I--I don't understand," she stammered. "How did you get here? How did
+you get away?"
+
+Again his keen eyes searched hers.
+
+"As for getting away," he said, slowly, "when a Prophet has a Precursor,
+he should be able to arrange these things. Five o'clock is a dull hour
+at Hellier Crescent. The Arch-Mystics are perusing the Scitsym; the
+Precursor is guarding the sacred threshold of the Prophet; the Prophet
+is--presumably--communing with his Soul. The routine of this evening
+differs in no way from the routine of any other evening--except that the
+Precursor is rather more than usually vigilant in his watch." Again the
+forced flippancy was apparent; and to Enid, staring at him with wide,
+perplexed eyes, there was something inexplicable and alarming in this
+new and unfamiliar attitude. With a tremor of foreboding, her glance
+travelled over his face.
+
+"Has anything happened?" she asked. "Have the People done wrong? Have
+you--have you been called elsewhere?" At the last dread possibility her
+voice faltered.
+
+But the Prophet stood cold and almost rigid. At last, by an immense
+effort, he seemed to gather himself together for some tremendous end.
+
+"Enid," he said, gravely, "I don't know how much you know of life, but I
+presume you know very little. I presume that--and shall act on the
+presumption. I shall not expect--even ask--any leniency of you.
+
+"I came here this evening to tell you something that will alter your
+opinion of me so effectually that nothing hereafter can reinstate me in
+your mind." He spoke slowly and deliberately, without tremor or falter.
+Whatever of struggle lay behind his words, it lay with the past. It was
+evident as he stood there in the pretty, luxurious room, that he
+possessed a purpose, and that he held to it without thought of a
+retrograde step.
+
+"I have come to make a confession," he said, quietly. "Not because I
+believe in the habit of unburdening one's conscience, but because there
+is something you have a right to know--"
+
+"I--? A right to know?" Her lips paled.
+
+"Yes. A right to know." With a sudden access of feeling he dropped her
+hands and turned towards the window, where the last glimmer of the
+wintry twilight showed through the soft silk curtains.
+
+"I am putting myself in your hands," he said, steadily. "I am
+jeopardizing myself utterly by what I am going to say; but it seems to
+me the only way by which I can make--well, can patch up some poor
+amends--
+
+"I may be presumptuous, but I believe--I think--that I have stood for
+something in your eyes." He turned and looked at her. But in the mingled
+dusk and firelight only the pale outline of her face was visible.
+
+"Enid!" he cried, with sudden resolution, "it must be faced. It must be
+said. I'm not what you think me. I'm a fraud--a lie--an impostor. No
+more a Prophet--no more inspired than you--or Bale-Corphew!" He stopped
+abruptly and drew a slow, deep breath.
+
+The pause that followed was long and strained. In the grip of strong
+emotions, each stood rigid, striving vainly to read the other's face. At
+last, goaded by the silence, he spoke again.
+
+"You have done this!" he cried. "You have compelled me to tell you! I
+came to these people; I duped them--and gloried in duping them. I
+despised them, understood them, traded on them without a scruple. Then
+you came. You came--and the scheme was shattered. The whole thing, that
+had bubbled and sparkled, became suddenly like flat champagne. That is a
+common simile, but it is descriptive. The acting of an actor depends
+upon his audience. While my audience was composed of fools, I fooled
+them; but when you came--you with your scepticism, your curiosity, your
+feminine dependency--I lost my cue. I became conscious of the footlights
+and the make-up." Again he paused; and again he endeavored to read her
+face. His manner was still restrained, but below his calm were the
+stirrings of a deep agitation. There was tense anxiety in the set of his
+lips, an inordinate anticipation in the keenness of his eyes. For a
+space he stood waiting; then, as she made no effort towards response, he
+stepped to her side.
+
+"Say something!" he exclaimed. "Speak to me! I am waiting for you to
+speak."
+
+With a low, frightened murmur she drew back, extending her hands, as if
+to ward him off.
+
+The sound and the movement stung him to action. With a speed that might
+have been construed into fear, he came still nearer.
+
+"Enid!" he said. "Enid!"
+
+But again she retreated involuntarily.
+
+"Oh, why did you do it?" she exclaimed, suddenly, in a faint, shaken
+voice. "Oh, why did you do it? Why did you do it?"
+
+For an instant her tone and her manner daunted him; then he straightened
+his body and raised his head.
+
+"I did it for what is reckoned the most sordid motive in the world," he
+said, in a level voice. "I did it for money!"
+
+"For money?" With a scared movement she turned upon him, and for the
+first time since he had made his revelation, he saw her pale, alarmed,
+incredulous face in the full light of the fire.
+
+"I was wronged!" he said, sharply. "These people had defrauded me. I
+wanted what was justly mine."
+
+"Wanted?" The word formed itself almost inarticulately.
+
+"Yes; wanted. Wanted with all my might. I have worked, schemed, suffered
+for this in ways you could never imagine. I thought myself invincible.
+I believed that if the devil himself stood in my way it would not deter
+me. And now you--a frail girl--have wrecked the scheme!" He paused
+again, leaning towards her in sudden unconscious appeal for
+comprehension.
+
+"I won't say it hasn't been a struggle to come to you like this--to make
+my confession. It has. My conscience and I have been struggling night
+and day. I have held out to the last. It was only to-day--this very
+day--when I woke to face the crisis of my plans, that I knew I was
+beaten--knew the fight was over.
+
+"And do you understand why this has happened? Do you know why I am going
+away as empty-handed as I came? It is because I have seen you--because I
+love you--"
+
+He put out his hands. But as his fingers touched her, she thrust him
+away, freeing herself with fierce resentment.
+
+"Don't! don't! don't!" she cried. "You call yourself an impostor--You
+are worse than that. Much worse. You are a thief!"
+
+He stepped back as though she had struck him, and his hands dropped to
+his sides.
+
+"Yes, you are a thief!" she said again, hysterically; "a thief!"
+
+The repetition of the word goaded him.
+
+"Wait! Let me defend myself!"
+
+But with a broken sound of protest she flung her hands over her ears.
+
+"No! no! no!" she cried, vehemently. "There is no defence to make. There
+is no defence. You may leave the money of the sect, but you have stolen
+things that can never be replaced. Faith--hopes--ideals--" Her voice
+failed her.
+
+"Mistaken faith--mistaken ideals--" He caught her wrists, drawing her
+hands downward.
+
+But again she freed herself and confronted him with blazing eyes and a
+face marred by tears and emotion.
+
+"Nothing is mistaken that lifts one up--that helps one to live. Oh, you
+don't knew what you have done! You don't know! I thought you so
+noble--so great--and now--"
+
+"Now I am condemned unheard."
+
+"Unheard? Do you think words could change anything? There is only one
+thing I wish for now--never, never to see you again as long as either of
+us live!" With each word her voice rose, and on the last it broke with
+an excited sob.
+
+While she had been speaking the Prophet's face had become very pale. He
+turned to her now with a manner that was preternaturally quiet.
+
+"Very well!" he said. "I understand! But there is no need for you to
+trouble. All our arrangements are made--have been made for months. We
+attend the Gathering to-night; and afterwards, when Hellier Crescent is
+quiet, we go--as unobtrusively as we came. You see I give you the key to
+our plans; you are free to frustrate them, if you think fit. I don't
+believe I had any real hope of merciful judgment when I came here--women
+are not merciful when they are robbed of their illusions. But I confess
+I hoped for justice. I thought that you might hate me--"
+
+"Hate you?" she cried. "Hate you? We only hate what we respect. I don't
+hate you. I only despise you with all my heart. I want you to go before
+I despise myself as well!" Her own cruel disillusioning--her own
+unbearable sense of loss--swept over her afresh; her voice rose again,
+and again broke hysterically. With an uncontrolled movement of grief and
+mortification she turned away from him and threw herself upon a couch,
+burying her face in the pillows.
+
+For several minutes she cried tempestuously; then through the storm of
+her angry tears she caught the sound of a closing door. With a start
+she sat up and looked about her.
+
+The faint relic of daylight still showed through the curtains of the
+window; the firelight still played pleasantly on the untouched tea-table
+and the fragile furniture; but the room was empty. The Prophet was
+gone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+When she realized this fact, Enid rose from her seat with a murmur of
+dismay. In her sharply feminine sense of loss, she took one involuntary
+step towards the door; but almost as the step was taken, her anger, her
+shattered faith assailed her anew, and, with a fresh burst of tears she
+turned and flung herself back upon the couch.
+
+For a long time she lay with her face among the pillows; then, at last,
+as her angry sobs died out and the violence of her grief subsided, she
+sat up, wiped her eyes, and glanced at her dripping handkerchief.
+
+[Illustration: "WITH A FRESH BURST OF TEARS, SHE TURNED AND FLUNG
+HERSELF UPON THE COUCH"]
+
+At sight of the handkerchief--a mere wisp of wet cambric--her sense of
+injury stung her afresh, and once more her lips began to quiver; but
+fate had decided against further tears. Before her grief had gathered
+force, the bell of the hall-door sounded once more long and loudly; and
+hard upon the sound the door of the room opened.
+
+With a start of confusion she sprang to her feet, and turned to confront
+Norris, standing at a discreet distance, with an apologetic manner and
+downcast eyes.
+
+"Mr. Bale-Corphew, ma'am," she murmured, as Enid looked at her. "I told
+him you were not at home; but he said he would wait till whenever he
+could see you, it didn't matter how long."
+
+With a little cry of dismay and annoyance, Enid put her hands to her
+disordered hair.
+
+"Oh, how stupid of you!" she cried, tremulously. "You know I can't see
+him. You know I won't see him. Tell him I'm out--ill--anything you can
+think of--" But her voice suddenly faltered, and her words ended in a
+gasp, as she glanced from the servant to the door, which had abruptly
+reopened, displaying the face and figure of Bale-Corphew himself.
+
+Without hesitation he had entered the room; and without hesitation he
+walked straight towards her.
+
+"Forgive me!" he exclaimed. "I know this must seem unpardonable; but the
+occasion is without precedent. May I speak with you alone?"
+
+In the moment of his entry, and during his hurried greeting, Enid had
+mastered her agitation. She looked at him now with an attempt at
+calmness.
+
+"Certainly, if you have anything to say."
+
+In the excitement under which he was obviously laboring, he did not
+observe the coldness of the granted permission. He waited with
+ill-concealed impatience until Norris had withdrawn, then he turned to
+her afresh.
+
+"Mrs. Witcherley!" he cried, "you see before you an outraged man!"
+
+He made the announcement fiercely and theatrically; but, to any ear, it
+would have been evident that, below the instinctive desire for dramatic
+effect, his voice trembled with genuine agitation--his speech was
+charged with violent feeling. To Enid, watching him with surprise and
+curiosity, it was patent at a glance that some circumstance, strange in
+its occurrence or vital in its issue, had shaken him to the base of his
+emotional nature. And as she looked at him her own coldness, her own
+humiliation, suddenly forsook her.
+
+"What is it?" she cried, involuntarily. "What is it? Something has
+happened?"
+
+For one moment his answer was delayed--held back by the torrent of words
+that rushed to his lips; then, at last, as his tongue freed itself, he
+threw out his hands in a fierce gesture.
+
+"Outrage! Outrage and sacrilege!" he cried. "We have been
+duped--deceived--tricked. We, the Chosen--the Elect!"
+
+"Duped? Deceived?" She echoed the words, faintly. "What do you mean?
+What has happened?"
+
+"Everything! Everything!" Again he threw out his hands. "This man that
+we have called Prophet--this man that we have bent the knee to--he is
+nothing; nothing--" Once more emotion overpowered his words.
+
+"Nothing?" Enid's voice was indistinct, her tongue dry.
+
+"--Nothing but an impostor! An impostor! A thief!"
+
+He spoke loudly--even violently. To his listener it seemed that his
+voice rang out, filling the room, filling the street outside, filling
+the whole world. As she had done in the Prophet's presence, she raised
+her hands and pressed them over her ears. But, even through her fingers,
+his tones came loud and penetrating.
+
+"An impostor!" he cried, again. "A liar! A blasphemer!"
+
+Her hands dropped from her face.
+
+"Stop! Stop!" she cried, weakly.
+
+But he was beyond appeal.
+
+"You must hear!" he cried. "It is ordained. You have been the unwitting
+instrument by which the man has fallen."
+
+"I? I? The instrument?" She stared at him with wide eyes and a white
+face.
+
+"Yes, you!" He stepped to her side. "Without you, suspicion would never
+have been aroused. Without you, he might have carried out his base
+designs. It was the power of the Unseen that guided me on the day I
+entered the Presence Room and found you alone with him." He spoke
+hurriedly and disjointedly, but as the last word left his lips another
+expression crossed his face, as though a new suggestion passed through
+his mind.
+
+"Did you see nothing strange in that Audience?" he demanded. "Did you
+see nothing strange in the fact that he--a Prophet of Sublime
+Mysteries--should hold your hand, as any man of the earth might hold
+it?" He bent still closer, jealousy and suspicion darkening his face.
+
+Enid glanced at him fearfully. "No! No!" she said, sharply. "I--saw
+nothing strange. He was the Prophet."
+
+Bale-Corphew's face relaxed.
+
+"Ah!" he said, slowly. "I believe you. But, if _you_ were blind, _I_
+saw." He paused and passed his handkerchief over his face. Cold as the
+day was, drops of perspiration stood upon his forehead.
+
+"I saw. And from that hour the man was lost."
+
+"Lost?"
+
+"Yes, lost." He laughed excitedly; and to Enid the laugh sounded
+singularly unpleasant, sharp, and cruel. "From that day we have watched
+him--we, the Six. We have watched him and his friend--the dog who has
+dared to desecrate the name of Precursor. We have watched them night
+and day; we have seen them, listened to them hour after hour, while they
+believed themselves unobserved--?"
+
+"And what do you know? What have you learned?" There was a strange
+faintness in the tone of her voice.
+
+"Everything. Only yesterday we touched the key-stone of their scheme.
+To-night--this very night--they have planned an escape. They will attend
+as usual in the Place; they will fool us as they have fooled us before;
+and then, when the house is quiet--when the Six are at rest, exhausted
+by prayer and meditation--they will accomplish their vile work. They
+will plunder the Treasury of the Unseen!"
+
+"Oh no! No!" With a swift movement she turned to him.
+
+He looked at her for an instant, of silence, and then again the
+unpleasant, excited laugh escaped him.
+
+"You are right," he cried, suddenly. "What you say is right. There will
+be no plunder. The Treasury of the Unseen will remain inviolate!"
+
+As he paused she made no sound; but her eyes rested upon his, fascinated
+by their feverish brightness; and in the midst of her silent regard he
+spoke again, bending forward until his lips approached her ear.
+
+"They have laid their plans," he whispered, with a sudden and savage
+exultation, "but we also have laid ours. And even we cannot reckon upon
+the consequences. The spiritual enthusiast is not easy to hold in check,
+once he has been aroused!"
+
+Enid stared at him, the pupils of her eyes dilated, her lips pale.
+
+"You mean--? You mean--?" she stammered; then her fear found voice.
+"What do you mean?" she demanded, in sharp, alarmed tones.
+
+Bale-Corphew met her question, steadily.
+
+"I mean," he said, with fierce vindictiveness, "that at the Gathering
+to-night he will be publicly denounced!"
+
+He made the declaration slowly, and each word fell with overwhelming
+weight upon his companion's understanding. As in the bewildered mazes of
+a nightmare she saw the crowded chapel, the fanatical, unstable faces of
+the congregation, the six Arch-Mystics--outraged, incensed, unrelenting;
+and in their midst the Prophet, tall and grave and masterful, as she had
+seen him a hundred times. One man facing a sea of ungoverned emotion! At
+the vision her heart swelled suddenly and her soul sickened. With a
+gesture, almost as passionate as his own, she turned upon Bale-Corphew.
+
+"You would denounce him before the People?" she said, incredulously.
+"You would trap him? One man against a hundred! Oh, it would be
+cowardly! Cruel!"
+
+Bale-Corphew's face flamed to a deeper red.
+
+"Cowardly? Cowardly? Do you know what you are saying? The man is a
+thief!"
+
+For one moment she shrank before the epithet; the next she raised her
+head, her eyes flashing, her lips parted.
+
+"You have no right to use that word. You have not seen him steal."
+
+"Seen him? No. But the ears are as reliable as the eyes, and we have
+heard him declare that he intends to steal."
+
+"Intends! Intends! Intentions are not acts." In her deep agitation, she
+turned upon him with a new demeanor.
+
+"Oh, be merciful!" she cried. "Give him the benefit of mercy. Wait till
+the Assembly is over, and then accuse him. If you can prove your
+accusation, then justice can be done. On the other hand--"
+
+"The other hand?" Again Bale-Corphew's cruel laugh broke from him. "He
+has not shrunk from lies--from imposture--from blasphemy. Is it likely
+he will shrink from his reward? Oh no! We will run no risks. The trap
+has closed. No one will gain access to him to-night until the hour of
+the Gathering has arrived. It will be my special--my sacred--duty to
+watch and guard." As he spoke his eyes seemed to devour her face, and
+before the expression in their depths her strength faltered.
+
+"And why have you come here?" she asked, unsteadily. "Why have you come
+here? What has this to do with me?"
+
+As she put the questions, he watched her closely; and when her voice
+quivered, a spasm of emotion--a wave of jealousy and suspicion--swept
+his face.
+
+"Can you ask that question?" he demanded.
+
+Enid wavered.
+
+"Why not?" she murmured. "Why should I not?"
+
+"Why not?" He laughed again, suddenly and savagely. "Because the man
+loves you. Because he stole out of the house to-day--and came here to
+you. I tracked him here and tracked him back again."
+
+Enid shrank away from him.
+
+"So--so you are a spy?" she said, in a confused, uneven voice.
+
+He turned instantly, his passions aflame.
+
+"A spy?" he cried. "I am a spy? Very well! We will see who comes out
+victor. The thief or the spy." His voice rose, his face darkened. The
+demon of jealousy that had pursued him for seven days was free of the
+leash at last.
+
+"I wanted to know this," he exclaimed. "I wanted to be sure. I had my
+suspicions, but I wanted proof. On the day I surprised you with him, I
+suspected; to-day, when I saw him enter this house, I felt convinced--"
+
+"Convinced of what?"
+
+"Convinced that there is more in this matter than his love for you. That
+there is also--"
+
+With a swift movement Enid stopped him. She was quivering violently, but
+she held her head high.
+
+"Yes," she said, distinctly. "Yes, you are quite right. There is more in
+this matter than his love for me. There is also my love for him!"
+
+Her eyes were blazing; her heart was beating fast. With an agitation
+equal to Bale-Corphew's own she moved to the fireplace and pressed the
+bell.
+
+When the servant appeared she turned to her.
+
+"Norris," she said, in a quiet voice, "show Mr. Bale-Corphew out."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+There are few phases of human existence more interesting than that in
+which a young and sensitive woman is compelled by circumstances to cast
+aside the pleasant artifices, the carefully modulated emotions of a
+sheltered life, and to face the realities of fact and feeling.
+
+For twenty-three years Enid Witcherley had played with existence--toying
+with it, enjoying it, as an epicure enjoys a rare wine or a choice
+morsel of food prepared for his appreciation. Now, as she stood alone in
+her small drawing-room with its costly decorations, its feminine
+atmosphere, she was conscious for the first time that the banquet of
+life is not in reality a display of delicate viands and tempting
+vintages, but a meal of common bread--sweet or bitter as destiny
+decrees. She saw this, and with a flash of comprehension knew and
+acknowledged that her heart and her brain cried out for the wholesome
+necessary food.
+
+An hour ago, when the Prophet had stood before her and made his
+confession, she had been overwhelmed by the tide of her own feelings; in
+the rush of humiliation and disappointment--in the tremendous knowledge
+that the image she had called gold was in reality but clay--she had been
+too mortified to see beyond her own horizon. In that moment their places
+in the drama had been indisputably allotted. She herself had appeared
+the unoffending heroine, unjustly humiliated in her own eyes and in the
+eyes of others; he had stood out, in unpardonable guise, the cause--the
+instrument--of that humiliation. In the bitter knowledge she had
+confronted him unrelentingly. A spoiled child--an unreasoning feminine
+egoist.
+
+But now that moment, with its instructive and primitive emotions, was
+passed by what seemed months--years--a century. By a process of mind as
+swift as it was subtle, the child had grown into a woman--the egoist had
+become conscious of another existence. With the entrance of
+Bale-Corphew--with the sound of her own denunciation upon his lips--a
+new feeling had awakened within her--a feeling stronger than
+humiliation, stronger than pride. It had risen, blinding and dazzling
+her, as a great light might blind and dazzle; and she stood glorified
+and exalted within its radiance.
+
+As the door had closed upon her second visitor, a long sobbing sigh of
+excitement, of tumultuous joy and fear shook her from head to foot; she
+involuntarily drew her figure to its full height, and covered her face
+with both hands, as though to ward off the light that lay across her
+world.
+
+But the great moment of joy and comprehension could not last; other and
+more insistent factors were at work within her mind--claiming, even
+demanding attention. Almost as the outer door closed upon Bale-Corphew,
+her hands dropped to her sides and an expression akin to terror crossed
+her eyes. With a mind rendered supersensitive by its own emotions, she
+realized what the next five hours might hold; and like a tangible menace
+the dark, angry face of the Arch-Mystic flashed back upon her
+consciousness.
+
+While he had been present in the room, while his turbulent voice had
+filled her ears, she had been only partly alive to the threatened
+danger; but now that his presence had been removed, now that she was
+free to sift the meaning of his words, their full significance was borne
+in upon her. With an alarming clearness of vision, she recognized that
+behind his threats lay a definite meaning; that the man himself, at all
+times passionate, and, on occasion, violent in temperament, had
+suddenly become a danger--something as fierce and menacing as an
+uncontrolled element.
+
+She realized and understood this rapidly, as only the mind knows and
+comprehends in moments of stress and crisis; and before her knowledge,
+all ideas save one fell away like chaff before the wind. At all
+costs--in face of every obstacle--she must warn and save the Prophet!
+
+With a start of apprehension, she glanced at the clock and saw that the
+hands marked ten minutes to seven. Moving to the fireplace, she once
+more pressed the bell; and as Norris answered, turned to her, heedless
+for perhaps the first time in her life of outward appearances.
+
+"Get me my long black cloak, Norris," she said. "And a black hat and
+veil. I am going out."
+
+Norris's face expressed no surprise.
+
+"You will be back to dinner, ma'am?" she inquired.
+
+"No. I shall not want dinner. I may not be back till ten--perhaps
+eleven. If I am late, no one need wait up." She walked to a mirror and
+began nervously smoothing her ruffled hair, while Norris left the room,
+and returned with the desired garments.
+
+With the same nervous haste she put on her hat, tied the thick veil over
+her face, and allowed herself to be helped into her cloak. Then, without
+a word, she crossed the drawing-room, passed through the hall of the
+flat, and entered the lift.
+
+At the street-door she was compelled to wait while the hall-porter
+called a cab; and the momentary delay almost overtaxed her patience. An
+audible sound of relief escaped her when the clatter of hoofs and jingle
+of bells announced that the wait was over.
+
+"St. George's Terrace!" she ordered, in a low voice, and it seemed to
+her perturbed mind that even the stolid attendant must find something
+portentous in the words; then she sank into the corner of the cab and
+closed her eyes, as she heard her order repeated to the cabman, and felt
+the horse swing forward into the stream of traffic.
+
+More than once she altered her position as the distance between
+Knightsbridge and St. George's Terrace lessened. She was devoured by
+impatience and yet paralyzed by dread. Once, as the cab halted in a
+block of traffic, she heard a clock strike seven, and at the sound the
+blood rushed to her face as she thought of the nearness of her ordeal;
+but an instant later she drew out her watch to verify the time, and
+paled with sudden apprehension as she realized that the clock was slow.
+
+So her mind oscillated until the cab drew up beside the curb; and, with
+a nervous start, she heard the cabman open the trap-door.
+
+"What number, lady?" he asked.
+
+[Illustration: "HER HAND WAS TREMBLING AS SHE RAISED THE HEAVY KNOCKER"]
+
+She answered almost guiltily: "No number! Just stop here! Put me down
+here!" She rose, gathering her long cloak about her.
+
+Try as she might, she could not control her excitement, as she crossed
+the roadway and entered Hellier Crescent after a week's absence. Her
+hand was trembling as she raised the heavy knocker on the familiar door;
+and her voice shook as she repeated the necessary formula.
+
+There was a slight delay--a slight hesitancy on the part of the
+door-keeper; then the slide, which had opened at her knock, closed with
+a click, and the massive door swung back.
+
+She stepped forward eagerly, but on the moment that she entered the hall
+her heart sank. With a thrill of apprehension she saw that in place of
+the humble member of the congregation who usually attended there, the
+tall, fair-bearded Arch-Mystic known as George Norov was guarding the
+door. Small though the incident might appear, it conveyed to her, as no
+spoken declaration could have done, the spirit of action and vigilance
+reigning in the House.
+
+While the thought flashed through her mind, Norov surveyed her from his
+great height.
+
+"You are in good time, my child; the Gathering is for eight o'clock."
+
+She looked up at him.
+
+"Yes," she said, quickly. "I know it is for eight o'clock, but I have
+come early. I have come because I wish--" Her courage faltered before
+the intent, searching gaze of his blue eyes.
+
+"I have come," she added, with gathered resolution, "because I desire
+private Audience with the Prophet--because there is something on my Soul
+of which I must unburden myself."
+
+The Arch-Mystic looked at her and his eyes seemed cold as steel.
+
+"The Prophet holds private Audience only in the morning," he replied, in
+an even voice.
+
+Enid flushed.
+
+"I know that. But there are exceptions to the rule--"
+
+The Arch-Mystic shook his head.
+
+"The Prophet holds private Audience only in the morning."
+
+"But the Prophet is generous. Five minutes alone with him will satisfy
+me--three minutes--two minutes--" Her tone quickened as her anxiety
+increased.
+
+Still Norov's blue eyes met hers unswervingly.
+
+"The Prophet holds private Audience only in the morning."
+
+At the second repetition her apprehension rose to fear; and in her
+alarmed trepidation she conceived a new idea. With a rapid searching
+glance her eyes travelled over the Arch-Mystic's powerful figure, while
+she mentally measured his physical strength with that of the Prophet.
+Her survey was short and comprehensive; and her decision came with
+equal speed. With a subtle change of manner and voice she made a fresh
+appeal. Turning to him with a gesture of deference, she spoke again in a
+soft and conciliatory voice.
+
+"Of course, you are right in what you say," she murmured. "But I am
+going to make an appeal. If I may not see the Prophet in private
+Audience, then let me see him in your presence! I have only a dozen
+words to say; and, if necessary, I will say them in your presence. You
+can see it is urgent, when I am willing to humiliate myself. It is only
+for her Soul that a woman will conquer her pride. You won't deny peace
+to my Soul?" Her voice dropped, her whole expression pleaded.
+
+For a moment--for just one moment--it seemed to her desperate gaze that
+his hard blue eyes softened; the next, their cold, unyielding glance
+disillusioned her of hope.
+
+"It is useless to appeal to me," he said; "but if you very much desire
+it, you can make your request to my brother Mystic--Horatio
+Bale-Corphew. He is guarding the Prophet's Threshold."
+
+Whether the man had any glimmering of knowledge as to her private
+connection with Bale-Corphew and the Prophet was not to be read from his
+austere face. His words might have been spoken in all innocence, or
+might have been spoken deliberately and with malice. But in either case
+the result, so far as his listener was concerned, was the same. A sense
+of frightened impotence fell upon her--a knowledge that her enemy had a
+longer reach and a more powerful arm than she had guessed.
+
+By a great effort she controlled her feelings.
+
+"Thank you!" she said, quietly, "but I will not trouble Mr.
+Bale-Corphew. If I may, I will wait in the Place until the Gathering is
+assembled."
+
+Her companion bent his head.
+
+"Permission is granted!" he said.
+
+For a moment longer she stood, burning with apprehensive dread. On one
+hand was the Prophet--trapped and unaware of his peril; on the other was
+Bale-Corphew--implacable, enraged, unrelaxing in his pursuit. She waited
+irresolute, until the cold, inquiring gaze of the Arch-Mystic made
+action compulsory; then, scarcely conscious of the movement, she
+inclined her head in mechanical acknowledgment of his courtesy, and,
+turning away, passed down the lofty, sombre hall.
+
+Never in after-life was she able to remember, with any degree of
+distinctness, her threading of the familiar corridors leading to the
+chapel. Her consciousness of outer things was numbed by mental strife.
+Reaching the heavy curtain that shut off the sacred precinct, she thrust
+it aside with nervous impetuosity and stood looking around the deserted
+chapel--glancing from the rows of empty chairs to the Sanctuary, where
+the great golden Throne stood shrouded in a white cloth, and the silver
+censers lay awaiting the flame.
+
+At a first glance it seemed that the chapel was entirely empty, but as
+her eyes grew accustomed to the modulated light diffused by eight large
+tapers, she saw that the Sanctuary was occupied by one sombre figure
+that flitted silently between the lectern and the Throne. For an instant
+her heart leaped, for the man was of the same height and build as the
+Precursor; but a second glance put her hopes to flight. The Mystic
+within the Sanctuary was the humble member of the congregation whose
+duty it was to wait upon the Prophet.
+
+As she passed slowly and automatically up the aisle, the man turned and
+looked at her; but after a cursory glance returned to his task of
+setting the Sanctuary in order.
+
+The look and the evident unconcern chilled and daunted her anew. With a
+movement of despair she paused, and sank into one of the empty chairs.
+
+For a space that seemed eternal, she sat huddled in her seat--her hands
+clasped nervously in her lap; her ears alert to catch the slightest
+sound; her eyes unconsciously following the movements of the man within
+the Sanctuary; then, suddenly and abruptly, the tension snapped; and
+action--action of some description--became imperative. She rose from her
+seat.
+
+After she had risen, she stood aimlessly looking about her at the
+black-and-white walls, at the rows of chairs, at the gleaming octagonal
+symbol that hung from the roof; then, as if magnetically attracted, her
+glance travelled back to the man inside the Sanctuary rail.
+
+There was nothing remarkable in the spare figure, moving reverently from
+one sacred object to another; but as her eyes rested on the colorless,
+ascetic face, her own cheeks flushed with a new hope--a new inspiration.
+With a quick movement she glanced furtively behind her; and, stepping
+carefully between the chairs, regained the aisle and moved swiftly and
+noiselessly up the chapel.
+
+Her heart was beating so fast, the nervous strain was so intense, that
+when she reached the railing she stood for a moment unable to command
+her voice. And when the Mystic--becoming suddenly aware of her near
+presence--turned and confronted her, a faint sound of nervous alarm
+slipped from her.
+
+For a space the two looked at each other; and at last the man appeared
+to realize that something was expected of him. Bending his head, he
+uttered the formula of the sect.
+
+"In what can I serve you?"
+
+The familiar words braced Enid. She glanced at him afresh, and in that
+glance her plan of action arranged itself. For one moment, as she had
+walked up the aisle, her hand had sought her purse, but now, as she
+scanned the ascetic face of this unworldly servant, her fingers
+involuntarily loosened and the purse slipped back into her pocket. With
+a new resolve, she looked him straight in the eyes.
+
+"You can do me a great service--a very great service," she said,
+quietly, in her soft, clear voice.
+
+The man looked at her in slow inquiry.
+
+"Oh, I know you are surprised," she added, quickly. "I know this seems
+unusual--" She paused in momentary hesitation.
+
+The Mystic appeared distressed.
+
+"My--my duty--" he broke in, uneasily. "My duty is to--"
+
+But she checked him suddenly.
+
+[Illustration: "I AM IN NEED OF HELP ... AND YOU CAN HELP ME"]
+
+"Charity is greater than duty!" she said, in a low, impressive tone. By
+the same feminine intuition that had made her discard her purse, she saw
+that by a semi-mystical appeal--and by that alone--could she hope to
+succeed. Laying her hands upon the Sanctuary railing, she leaned
+forward, and raised her large eyes to the man's face.
+
+"Which do _you_ consider the greater virtue?" she asked. "Duty or
+charity?"
+
+The Mystic looked at her.
+
+"Charity," he said, at last, hesitatingly, "the Prophet teaches us--"
+
+Enid's face flushed.
+
+"Yes! yes!" she cried. "The Prophet teaches us that charity is the
+greater virtue. He tells us that we are to rely upon ourselves--and also
+upon each other. We are to help ourselves--and to help each other." Her
+voice shook, her face glowed in her excitement and suspense.
+
+"I am in need of help," she added. "In desperate need. And you can help
+me."
+
+Her tone was urgent, her compelling gaze never faltered. She knew that
+this was her last chance--that, if this man failed her, catastrophe was
+inevitable.
+
+The Mystic stirred uncomfortably, and his glance turned half fearfully
+from the intent, appealing face to the lectern on which rested the
+white-bound Scitsym.
+
+With a sudden access of enthusiasm, Enid spoke again.
+
+"There is something troubling my Soul," she said. "Something that I must
+confess to the Prophet to-night. My whole happiness--all my
+peace--depends upon confessing it. I cannot speak with him before the
+Gathering assembles; but I can write my confession. Will you save my
+Soul? Will you carry my confession to him?"
+
+Until the words were actually spoken, she did not realize how immensely
+she had staked upon her chances of success. In a fever of anxiety she
+waited, watching the man's gaze as it wavered undecidedly over the
+Scitsym, then returned, as if magnetized, to her face.
+
+"In twenty minutes the Gathering will be assembled," he murmured.
+
+"I know, I know. But there is still time. It is a matter of--of
+faith--of peace of mind."
+
+The man shuffled his feet.
+
+"It--it is impossible," he said.
+
+"Why impossible?"
+
+"Because the Prophet is exalted to-night. The Arch-Mystics themselves
+are guarding the Threshold. The Prophet is exalted; he must not be
+disturbed."
+
+"But if it is necessary to disturb him? If there is a Soul in danger?"
+
+"The Prophet must not be disturbed. What are we, that we should thrust
+our wrong-doing or our sorrow upon the Mighty One?"
+
+At the words a rage of apprehension shook Enid. She lifted her head, and
+her fingers closed fiercely round the iron bar that topped the railing.
+
+"Silence!" she said, excitedly. "You do not know what you are saying!
+The Prophet sets his people high above himself. The message of a Soul
+in distress is of more value in his eyes than a hundred moments of
+exaltation. Take care that his wrath does not fall upon you!"
+
+Involuntarily the man paled.
+
+"Yes. Take care!" she cried. "Take care! You have the well-being--the
+whole future--of one Soul in your hands to-night. How will you answer to
+the Prophet, if you fail in the trust?"
+
+The Mystic cowered.
+
+"If you fail, the wrong can never be repaired. And the doing of the
+action will cost you nothing. Take this note--" With agitated haste she
+tore a leaf from a tiny note-book that hung at her waist. "Take this
+note. Tell no one. Give it into the Prophet's own hands--" She drew out
+a pencil and wrote a few enigmatical words. "Give it into his own hands;
+and I can promise you that your reward will be greater than you think."
+With a rapid movement, she roiled up the paper and held it out to him.
+
+"Take it," she said, impressively. "And remember that it is something
+important, essential--sacred." On the last word her voice rose; then,
+without warning, it suddenly broke.
+
+A curtain at the back of the Sanctuary had been drawn aside; and for the
+second time that evening, the face of Bale-Corphew confronted her
+through the dusk.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+For one instant Enid stood spellbound; then involuntarily she stepped
+backward, crumpling the slip of paper in her hand.
+
+At the same movement Bale-Corphew advanced and, passing the Mystic,
+indicated the Sanctuary curtain.
+
+"Go!" he commanded, in an unsteady voice. And as the man slunk away, he
+wheeled round and confronted Enid.
+
+"So this is your action?" he said, tremulously. "This is your conception
+of honor? Truly, woman is the undoing of man!" With an excited gesture,
+he lifted his hand and extended it towards the white Scitsym lying upon
+the lectern.
+
+But Enid met his attack with the courage that sometimes outlives hope.
+
+"A just man need fear no woman!" she exclaimed. "It is because you are
+unjust and a coward that you fear--that you suspect--that you find it
+necessary to hide and spy."
+
+The color surged over his face.
+
+"I have been outraged!" he cried--"I have been outraged!"
+
+"And, like an unreasoning animal, you turn to devour the thing that has
+hurt you?"
+
+"I demand justice."
+
+She threw out her hands and laughed suddenly and hysterically.
+
+"And you call this justice? You call it justice to trap one man and set
+a hundred others loose upon him?"
+
+But Bale-Corphew turned upon her.
+
+"And what is this man to you?" he cried. "What spell has he cast upon
+you that you can forget his outrage and his blasphemy?"
+
+Enid met the question with her new fortitude; searching Bale-Corphew's
+turbulent face, she answered with a certain high simplicity.
+
+"I do not know," she said. "Once I believed that I admired him--that I
+looked up to him--because he was a Prophet; something higher and better
+than myself. Now I know that my belief was wrong and false; that it was
+because he is a man--because, before everything else in the world, he is
+a man--that I turned to him, that I relied upon him."
+
+Bale-Corphew gave a short, cruel laugh.
+
+"So that is it? That is the secret? He is a man? Well, I will strip him
+of his manhood! We have had our disillusioning; yours is to come. Here,
+on this sacred spot where he has been so exalted, he will bite the
+dust."
+
+He paused triumphantly; and in the pause there rose again to Enid's mind
+the picture of one tall, white-robed figure confronting a sea of
+faces--all incensed--all passionately, vindictively unanimous in
+desire.
+
+"Oh no!" she said, suddenly, faltering before the picture. "No! No! You
+cannot. You must not. Be merciful! Let him go. And if there is
+anything--any recompense--" But even as it was spoken, the appeal died.
+Somewhere in the heart of the House a solemn clock chimed the hour of
+eight; and as though the sound were a signal, the curtain of the chapel
+door was drawn softly back, and a stream of dark-robed figures poured
+over the empty floor.
+
+For a moment she stood immovable before the imminence of the crucial
+scene; then, with a sensation of physical weakness and helplessness, she
+turned, moved blindly forward, and sank into a vacant seat.
+
+At the same moment Bale-Corphew left her without a word, and passed
+rapidly down the aisle.
+
+Great fear frequently exercises a paralyzing effect upon the body. With
+the undeniable knowledge that the time for action--the time for
+hope--was irrevocably passed, Enid felt deprived of the power to move.
+She sat crouching in her seat, every sense alive and strained, but with
+limbs that were overpowered and weighted as if by tangible fetters.
+
+Thrilling to this numb and impotent sense of dread, she heard the
+devotees enter the chapel, one after another, and pass to their chosen
+seats with soft, gliding steps. With a sickening knowledge of
+approaching catastrophe, she saw another of the unconventional
+black-robed servants emerge from behind the Sanctuary curtain, and
+proceed with maddening deliberation to light the sixteen groups of wax
+tapers that were set at intervals along the walls. Mechanically her eyes
+followed the man's movements; and it seemed that each new taper that
+spat, flickered, and shot up into a light was a symbol, a portent of the
+scene to come.
+
+As the last candle was lighted, the shuffling of feet and the stir of
+garments that, since the entry of the first devotee, had unceasingly
+filled the chapel suddenly subsided, and nerved to motion by the lull,
+she turned and glanced behind her.
+
+The scene, familiar though it was, impressed her anew. It was a strange
+effect in black and white. The black clothes of the congregation seemed
+massed together in a sombre blur; their strained, fanatical faces looked
+white and set; while the marble walls shone out, sharp and polished, in
+the same contrasting hues. Over the whole scene the concentrated light
+and accentuated shadow thrown by the great sconces glowing with tapers,
+made a variation of tone almost as vivid as that seen on a moonlight
+night.
+
+Unconsciously she recognized the curious, the almost barbaric
+picturesqueness of light and grouping; but her eyes had barely skimmed
+the scene when the meaning of the hush that filled the place was brought
+home to her mind.
+
+Glancing towards the curtain that hid the entrance, she saw the figure
+of the Prophet move slowly into the chapel and pass up the aisle,
+attended by the Precursor and the Six Arch-Mystics.
+
+He moved forward with grave, dignified steps, and with a head held even
+higher than usual, and reaching the Sanctuary gate, passed through it
+without hesitation.
+
+The action was so calm--so natural--so like what she had witnessed night
+after night--that Enid sat newly petrified, her senses striving to
+associate this strong figure with the man who, only a few hours before,
+had humiliated himself in her presence. For a moment her mind refused
+the connection of ideas; but the next a full realization of the position
+swept over her, galvanizing her mentally and physically, as she turned
+in her seat and glanced at the seven who were following in the wake.
+
+[Illustration: "SHE SAW THE FIGURE OF THE PROPHET ... ATTENDED BY THE
+PRECURSOR AND THE SIX ARCH-MYSTICS"]
+
+First behind his master came the Precursor. And to Enid's searching
+gaze it seemed that his face was set into unfamiliar and anxious lines;
+but under his black cap and red hair, his skin looked colorless and
+drawn. But after the first glance, her eyes were not for him; with swift
+apprehension they passed to the six Arch-Mystics who, walking two and
+two, formed the procession.
+
+Animated by the speed of actual fear, her gaze passed from the
+abnormally agitated face of old Arian, the blind Arch-Councillor, to the
+dark, turbulent face of Bale-Corphew, who brought up the rear. The
+survey was rapid and comprehensive; and to her uneasy mind the thought
+came with unerring certainty that, on all the six faces--differing so
+markedly in physical characteristics--there was a common look of
+suppressed excitement, of suppressed resolve.
+
+As they passed her seat, Norov turned and shot a glance of cold
+curiosity in her direction; but otherwise the whole group seemed
+unaware of her presence. Still inert, she sat, watching every movement
+in the scene before her as one might watch a drama that would, at a
+given moment, cease to be entertainment and become real life.
+
+Very quietly the Prophet advanced to the Scitsym and, following the
+customary routine, opened it and began to read.
+
+The words were a strange jargon of mystical counsel interspersed with
+the relation of mystical visions and ecstasies. On ordinary lips, the
+long, disjointed sentences and disconnected phrases would have sounded
+vague and incomprehensible; but, from the first, it had been one of the
+Prophet's special gifts that his deep, grave voice could lend weight and
+meaning to the fantastic utterances. And to-night it seemed that he
+intended to put forth all his powers; for scarcely had he opened the
+book and begun to read, than a stir of interest passed over the
+congregation; and even Enid, enmeshed in her own terrors, bent forward
+involuntarily.
+
+He spoke very slowly, enunciating every word with studied seriousness;
+and from time to time he paused and looked across the sea of fixed and
+almost adoring faces turned in his direction. It was as if, by strength
+of will, he had determined that no point, no syllable, of this, his last
+reading, should be lost upon his hearers. More than once, Bale-Corphew
+moved uneasily and shot a glance at Norov; but the Prophet was
+unconscious of these surreptitious signs.
+
+For half an hour he read on, slowly, distinctly, impressively; then,
+still following the routine of the evening service, he closed the book
+and calmly moved across the Sanctuary to the Throne. As he neared it,
+the Precursor stepped forward deferentially and conducted him to the
+foot of the gilt steps.
+
+Having ascended, he took his seat with calm impassivity and, resting his
+hands upon the arms of the great gold chair, looked out once more upon
+the massed faces. This, according to custom, was the signal for a
+general movement. The congregation swayed forward, prostrating
+themselves upon the ground, while the Arch-Mystics gathered their wide,
+black robes about them and assumed attitudes of rapt contemplation.
+
+In obedience to usage, Enid also dropped upon her knees and covered her
+face with her hands. But though her pose was conventional, there was
+little place in her thoughts for either prayer or meditation. One
+idea--and one only--absorbed her being. How, and at what moment, must
+she gather strength to act? She crouched upon the ground, her hands
+pressed tightly over her eyes. It seemed to her that all the torture,
+all the suspense and apprehension of the universe, were gathered into
+that half-hour of appalling silence. Once she ventured to unlace her
+fingers and glance through them fearfully; but at sight of the Prophet,
+calm, impassive, unconscious of his threatened danger--at sight of the
+six sombre shrouded figures that sat inside the Sanctuary railing, her
+blood turned cold and her courage quailed.
+
+When the sign that ended the evening's meditation was given, she rose
+with the rest and sank weakly into her seat. Then, in dumb, stricken
+helplessness such as envelops us in a terrible dream, she saw the
+Prophet rise very slowly and stand on the steps of the Throne, looking
+solemnly down upon the people.
+
+During his change of position, she sat vacillating pitiably. The
+knowledge that in a single moment he would have begun to speak spurred
+her to a fever of alarm, while a terrible nervous incapacity chained her
+limbs and paralyzed her tongue.
+
+Bale-Corphew's words rose to her mind. "He will fool us--as he has
+fooled us before." In the apprehension aroused by the memory, she half
+rose in her chair, her hands grasping the back of the seat in front of
+her; but suddenly the chapel, the lights, the congregation seemed to
+fade from her vision, and she sank back into her place. The Prophet had
+begun to speak.
+
+"My People," he said, very calmly and distinctly, "heretofore I have
+spoken to you as a teacher. To-night I will speak to you as one of
+yourselves."
+
+Something in the tone--something in the words--struck a note of surprise
+and uneasiness. Again Bale-Corphew shot a swift glance at Norov, and old
+Michael Arian lifted his head and strained his sightless eyes towards
+the Throne, while Enid's hands tightened spasmodically on the back of
+the chair in front of her, and her lips parted in new fear. What was he
+going to say? How much further was he going to compromise himself? But
+the body of the congregation swayed forward in absorbed attention, and
+the Prophet continued to survey the fixed faces with grave, steady eyes.
+
+"My People," he said, "you are an unusual gathering. Some would call you
+a gathering of fanatics--some might even call you a gathering of fools.
+But fools, fanatics, or Mystics, you are all men and women. You are all
+human beings!"
+
+Old Arian started, and Norov's cold, blue eyes flashed; but still the
+Prophet was oblivious of their emotion.
+
+"It is always well to study one's own kind; and to-night I am going to
+speak to you of a man. I am going to tell you the story of a man--a man
+as passionate, as headstrong, as weak and vulnerable as you yourselves."
+He halted for a moment, and his glance seemed to grow more concentrated,
+more intense.
+
+"Once, many years ago, there was a boy born here, in this city of
+London. Don't lose patience! My story has the merit of truth.
+
+"There was nothing pleasant, there was nothing easy, in the
+circumstances of this boy's birth. His first sight of the world was
+gained through the window of a tenement-house, and the picture he saw
+was the picture of an alley--dark, foul, teeming with life. His first
+knowledge of existence was the realization of poverty--not the free,
+wholesome poverty of the country, but the grinding, sordid, continuous
+poverty of the town, that no tongue can adequately describe.
+
+"These were his surroundings--this was his environment; and yet--so
+great are the miracles that love can accomplish--every day of that boy's
+life was illumined and glorified by one presence. God in his bounty had
+given him a mother!"
+
+It was the first time in any discourse that he had mentioned the supreme
+Name, and as if conscious of the tremor it aroused, he continued his
+narrative without pause.
+
+"To say that a boy's life is made happier by his mother's existence
+sounds too trite and obvious to bear any weight; but it is through the
+obvious facts of life that the world's machinery is kept in motion. The
+inexpressible, unwearying tenderness of this mother for her son, the
+love of this boy for his mother, grew with the passage of time--grew
+into something so significant, so vital and so deep, that even the
+poisonous atmosphere of the alley could not thwart its growth.
+
+"This feeling grew in the boy's heart; and with it--by a necessary law
+of nature--another feeling took root and grew also. Fired by stories of
+a past, in which wealth and position had been won by his forefathers, he
+conceived the idea of becoming in his own person a hero--a
+knight-errant. And in the grimy, common alley; in the poor, bare
+sitting-room where his mother sewed unendingly; in the dark closet under
+the slates where at night he dreamed his child's dreams, he built
+castles such as never stood upon the hills of Spain!
+
+"The germ of his ambition fell into his soul like a seed of fire; and,
+like a seed of fire, sprang into a flame. At whatever price--at whatever
+sacrifice--there must be a golden future, in which the mother he adored
+would sit in high places; in which the worn hands would never ply a
+needle except for pastime, the frail figure grow straight and strong,
+the pale face warm and brighten with the colors of health!
+
+"It was a very humble, a very young ambition, but it sprang from the
+true, clean source of untainted love, like which there is nothing else
+in all the world." He paused; and from his grave voice it seemed that a
+wave of emotion passed across the chapel. The congregation, too
+fascinated by his words to question their meaning, drew a sigh of rapt
+anticipation. Enid, amazed, bewildered, moved beyond herself, sat
+immovable--her face pale, her great eyes fixed upon the Throne. Only the
+six Arch-Mystics stirred uneasily, glancing at each other with quiet,
+uncertain looks.
+
+Presently, as though he had marshalled his ideas for the continuation of
+his speech, the Prophet raised his hand.
+
+"My People," he began, again, "do not think that I am going to compel
+you to listen to a psychological discourse upon this boy's development.
+That is not my intention. But were I to hold up a picture for your
+inspection, you could not properly appreciate it were you ignorant of
+the art of drawing. And so it is with my story. To understand the
+completed work, you must understand the manner of its growth.
+
+"Though this boy lived in obscurity, he was bound by one link with the
+great things of the world. But for the unjust disinheritance of his
+father, he would have been heir to a vast property; and through all his
+youth, this had been the golden mirage that had floated before his
+vision--this had been the fabled country from which his castle rose.
+Steadily, unfalteringly, one idea had expanded in his mind. By some
+brave action--by some deed of heroism--he was to win back the lost
+inheritance.
+
+"Time passed. And with its passage the wheel of fate revolved. By one of
+those strange chances for which no man can account, the opportunity that
+the boy longed for fell across his path.
+
+"It came. But it came enveloped in no cloud of glory. The path to the
+lost inheritance was steep and rugged and dark. He was called upon to
+leave his mother; to leave the place that, however sordid, however mean,
+was yet his home; and to enter upon a period of servitude with an
+unknown master--a man related to him by blood, whom report described as
+an eccentric--a miser--a madman."
+
+As he said these words a curious thing occurred. A wave of color flushed
+old Arian's sightless face; an inarticulate sound escaped him, and he
+made a tremulous attempt to rise. But the movement was instantly checked
+by Bale-Corphew, who bent close to him and whispered quickly in his ear.
+
+Neither gesture nor whisper was noted by the Prophet. His own face had
+paled as if with some deep emotion; and lowering his raised hand, he
+spoke again with a new, suppressed intensity.
+
+"Then began the vital period of that boy's career. He left his home--he
+left the mother he loved--he went into voluntary exile, animated by one
+purpose. Remember that, my People! He went into the service of this man
+animated by one purpose--the determination to win back his rightful
+fortune! And for seven weary years he continued his pursuit. For the
+seven most vital years of his youth he suppressed every instinct that
+animates a boy!
+
+"He worked more laboriously than the laborer in the fields, for mental
+servitude is more galling to the young than any physical strain. But he
+never faltered; and at last he had the pride of knowing that his end was
+gained--he had the pride of knowing that he had become indispensable to
+the master whom he served!" Again he paused, but this time the pause was
+of impressive weight. Unconsciously, and without analyzing the feeling,
+every member of the congregation felt that some announcement was
+pending--that some extraordinary revelation was about to be made.
+
+Enid sat rigid, holding her breath in an agony of suspense, fascinated
+and appalled by the incomprehensible discourse. Behind the high
+railing, old Michael Arian's lips moved rapidly and nervously, as though
+he were muttering inaudible prayers; while Bale-Corphew's florid face
+flamed, as, with a rapid, agitated movement, he glanced over the tense
+faces of the congregation. For one moment it seemed that he was bracing
+himself for action, but before his intentions could bear fruit, the
+voice of the Prophet again rang out across the chapel.
+
+"My People!" he said. "It is now that I appeal to your humanity! It is
+now that I ask each one of you--men and women--to stand in this boy's
+place--this boy, built like yourselves of human desires, human hopes,
+human weaknesses. After seven long years he touched the knowledge that
+he had become indispensable; and the bearer of that knowledge was
+Death--his master's master!
+
+"Death came; and in his chill presence the boy saw his task
+completed--laid aside like a written scroll!
+
+"It was the most glorious moment of his life--that moment in which he
+stood with unshaken faith, looking towards the future. But the darker
+side of existence was his portion; he had been born to the darker side.
+Within one hour of his master's death, his dreams were dispelled. He
+learned that, in the eyes of the man he had served, he had never passed
+beyond the position of the outcast--the dependent, whose services are
+liberally rewarded by the gift of a few hundred pounds. The fortune--the
+inheritance--the golden mirage, was no longer existent, save as
+something that did not concern him. By the disposition of his master's
+will, it had passed into the coffers of a religious body--a fantastic,
+unknown sect to which the old man had belonged!"
+
+The announcement fell with strange effect. Enid, inspired by sudden
+terror, rose to her feet; Bale-Corphew sat gripping the arm of his
+chair, his face contorted, his mouth working, while a rustle, an
+audible murmur of excitement passed over the whole chapel, and the
+Precursor, who all along had been crouching at the foot of the throne,
+turned quickly and anxiously towards his master.
+
+But the Prophet reassured him by a gesture. It seemed that he was
+exalted by some emotion, lifted above his surroundings by some invisible
+power.
+
+"Put yourselves in this boy's place!" he cried. "Was there ever a
+position so intensely human? The thing he had striven for--the thing he
+needed inordinately--had been wrenched from him by a band of people who,
+in his eyes, were either fools or knaves. What would you have done in
+his position? What would have been your impulse? What your instinct? If
+I know anything of human nature, it would have been the same as
+his--precisely, accurately the same as his!
+
+"He had known for years of this sect to which his master belonged; and
+for years he had held it in contempt. In his normal, youthful eyes, the
+idea of a creed that denied the high, simple theory of Christianity, and
+awaited the coming of a mythical Prophet was a subject for healthy
+scorn. And now suddenly it was forced upon his understanding that this
+anæmic sect--this mystical, anticipated Prophet--were his rivals--the
+despoilers of his private intimate hopes.
+
+"Such a knowledge has power to work a miracle; and in one single night
+it changed this boy into a man. Embittered, hopeless, stranded,
+inspiration came to him. He conceived the tremendous idea of entering
+upon a new fight--a second quest of the great inheritance. He conceived
+the idea; and standing, as it were, upon a different plane of life, he
+saw--"
+
+But the Prophet got no further. With a gesture of violent excitement,
+Bale-Corphew rose; at the same instant the Precursor sprang to his feet
+and stood in a defensive attitude before the Throne.
+
+The whole scene was enacted in a second. Enid, grasping its full
+meaning, turned very white and dropped back into her seat, while the
+whole congregation strained forward in unanimous amazement and
+curiosity.
+
+And then, for the first time, the hot, angry glance of Bale-Corphew met
+that of the Prophet. He glared at him for one moment in speechless rage,
+then he turned to the people.
+
+"Mystics!" he cried, in a choked voice. "In accordance with a solemn
+duty, I--I proclaim this man to be--"
+
+But before he could proceed the Precursor interrupted.
+
+"People! Mystics!" he cried, raising his penetrating voice. "Is this
+right? Is this permissible?"
+
+A murmur rose from the chapel.
+
+Bale-Corphew's face became purple.
+
+"People! hear me!" he exclaimed. "This man is no Prophet. He is an
+impostor! A fraud! I have proof. I can give you proof!"
+
+Of the extraordinary effect of these words Enid--crouching helplessly in
+her seat--saw nothing. All her senses were riveted upon one object--the
+tall, calm figure upon the steps of the Throne. By the power of
+intuition, rather than by physical observation, she saw the look of
+intense surprise, of incredulity merging to dismay, that crossed the
+Prophet's face at the Arch-Mystic's words. And at the sight the real
+meaning of his incomprehensible discourse passed over her mind in a wave
+of incredulous admiration. Believing himself secure in his position, he
+had voluntarily chosen to denounce himself.
+
+That was her first thought as the matter became clear to her; but a
+chilling second thought followed sharp upon it. What would be the
+Prophet's reading of Bale-Corphew's knowledge? Would not one
+solution--and one only--present itself to his mind? The idea that she
+had betrayed his confidence. With the horror of the suggestion an
+ungovernable impulse filled her--an impulse to rise--to go to him--sweep
+the doubt from his mind. But an instant later the merely egotistical
+thought was obliterated by the greater issues that filled the moment.
+
+After Bale-Corphew had spoken an uproar--a clamor--had suddenly filled
+the chapel; and now the rapt concourse of people had become as a
+turbulent sea. The Precursor, pale with intense nervous excitement,
+stood vainly striving to make his voice heard; while Bale-Corphew,
+closely surrounded by his fellow-Mystics, gesticulated violently.
+
+At last the Prophet raised his hand; and by habit and training, the
+people subsided into silence.
+
+Instantly Bale-Corphew's voice rang out.
+
+"Listen!" he cried; "listen!"
+
+But again the Precursor interrupted.
+
+"People," he demanded, "will you refuse the Prophet the right of speech?
+Will you refuse to hear the Prophet's words?"
+
+"This is sacrilege! Sacrilege!" Norov suddenly raised his voice. "Listen
+to your Councillor!"
+
+"Listen to the Prophet! The Voice of the Prophet calls upon you. Will
+you deny it?" The Precursor's voice shook with excitement.
+
+"This is the truth! I tell you the truth!" Bale-Corphew appealed to the
+people with out-stretched arms.
+
+But the tumult broke forth again.
+
+"Mystics! Mystics!" Old Arian's shrill, alarmed tones rose for an
+instant, only to be drowned in the clamor.
+
+Then out of the confused babel of sound one cry became distinguishable.
+
+"The Prophet! The Prophet! Let the Prophet speak!"
+
+For a space confusion reigned; then, answering to the demand, the
+Prophet again lifted his right hand.
+
+As though it exercised some potent spell, his calm, imperious gesture
+subdued the turmoil. When silence had been restored he began to speak;
+and never, since he had addressed the first Gathering, had so deep a
+note of domination and decision been audible in his voice.
+
+"Mystics!" he cried, "there is no time for preamble or delay. As the
+Arch-Mystic says, you must have truth! Perhaps there is no need to tell
+you that the history I have just related to you has an imminent bearing
+upon your lives and mine. You probably know, without my telling, that
+the boy of my story and I are one and the same person; that the fanatic
+sect, for which I was made a beggar, is your own sect--the sect of the
+Mystics. But so it is. On a wild, dark night ten years ago I learned
+that the money which should have been mine--the money which should have
+been the recompense for my mother's hard life--had been given to you.
+Given for the use of a Prophet in whose coming you believed!
+
+"My feelings on that night were the criminal feelings that underlie all
+civilization. I had only one desire--to destroy--to be avenged. My
+uncle, Andrew Henderson, was an Arch-Mystic of your sect; and on the
+night he died, your sacred Scitsym was in his house!"
+
+The congregation thrilled, and the blind Arch-Councillor turned and
+clutched Bale-Corphew's arm.
+
+"My first impulse was to destroy that book. Look at it, look at it!" He
+pointed to the lectern. "Ten years ago, I knelt before a fire with its
+pages in my hand, and black thoughts of revenge in my heart. But the
+devil of temptation lurks in strange places. In the very act of
+destruction, an inspiration came to me. A man was expected! A Prophet
+was expected! And in the pages of the Scitsym were contained the
+attributes, the secret signs, the manifold ways in which he was to make
+good his claim.
+
+"I come of an obstinate stock--of a stock that in the past has overcome
+many obstacles. That night I copied out the whole of your Scitsym, and
+afterwards, as soon as I reasonably could, I left Scotland.
+
+"I went at once to my mother; I told her that, according to the
+disposition of my uncle's will, I was to inherit his fortune in ten
+years' time, and that in the interval I was to fit myself for wealth by
+profound study. It was the first time in all my life that I had lied to
+her!
+
+"But to come to the end, your Prophet was to be a student of Eastern
+lore. With this knowledge in my mind, I started with my mother for the
+East. What has happened since then is immaterial. My second probation
+has been as hard as my first. But I accomplished two things. I fitted
+myself mentally and physically for the part I was going to play, and I
+made one stanch, wholly disinterested friend!" With a gesture of grave
+affection, he indicated the Precursor.
+
+In the opportunity that the slight pause gave, Bale-Corphew sprang
+forward and, resting his hands upon the Sanctuary railing, faced the
+congregation.
+
+"People!" he cried, hoarsely, "be not deceived! This man pretends to
+tell you what he is. He is blinding you--weaving a bandage of specious
+words across your eyes. But I will undeceive you. I will tear the
+bandage--" He hesitated, stammered, paused.
+
+With a movement full of fire, full of authority, the Prophet stepped
+from the Throne.
+
+"Silence!" he cried. "There is no need for interference. This matter is
+between the People and myself." With a pale face and burning eyes he
+stepped forward, and standing beside the Arch-Mystic confronted the
+congregation.
+
+"I will tell you everything that this man would tell you," he said, in a
+steady voice. "I believe I will even use the word he himself would
+choose. I am a thief! I am a thief--in intention if not in act!"
+
+The effect of the word was tremendous. A perfectly audible gasp went up
+from the breathless crowd; and, by one accord, the people rose and
+swayed upward towards the Sanctuary.
+
+Calm and immovable as a rock, the Prophet held his place.
+
+"Yes," he said, steadily, "until this morning I have virtually been a
+thief. Until this morning it was my firm intention to take by force that
+which should have come to me as my right. The fact that my intention
+faltered at the last moment does not affect the case. I wish to make no
+appeal. My desire"--his voice suddenly quickened--"my desire is plainly
+and simply to state my case.
+
+"Morally I have done you no wrong. My teaching has been the expounding
+of simple truths, that my personal action could not desecrate. I stand
+before you to-night empty-handed as I came. The one thing I claim from
+you is judgment!
+
+"Judge me! I am in your hands. If you think I deserve punishment, punish
+me! If you think circumstances have made me what I am, then stand aside!
+Let me pass out of your lives!"
+
+There was a great silence; then a woman's sharp cry rang out across the
+chapel, as, with a savage movement, three of the Arch-Mystics sprang
+upon the Prophet.
+
+"Sacrilege! Sacrilege!" Bale-Corphew's voice rose loud and violent.
+
+But he had calculated without his host. The fanaticism of a crowd is a
+dangerous weapon with which to tamper, and the dethronement of a king is
+not accomplished in a day. With the speed of light, the element he had
+unloosed turned upon himself.
+
+Again one word disentangled itself from the medley of sounds.
+
+"The Prophet! The Prophet!" Like an ignited fuse, instinct had
+been lighted in the people. The man who for months had been
+exalted--honored--well-nigh worshipped--was in imminent peril!
+That one thought submerged and demolished every other.
+
+There was a forward movement--a roar--a crash--and the high, gilt
+railings of the Sanctuary went down as before a storm.
+
+To Enid, who had been borne irresistibly upward on the human tide, there
+was one overpowering moment of fear and clamor, in which the cry of "The
+Prophet! The Prophet!" dominated her consciousness; then, to her, the
+world became suddenly and mercifully sightless, soundless, and void.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When at last her eyes opened--when at last her senses falteringly
+returned to the consciousness of present things--she was in her own
+familiar room. The atmosphere breathed of repose and peace; through the
+drawn curtains the hum of London came subdued and soothing; in the room
+itself the lights were modulated and the fire glowed soft and mellow,
+while a faint, pungent smell of restoratives filled the air. But these
+details came but vaguely to her appreciation, for the first object upon
+which her glance and her ideas rested was the figure of John Henderson,
+kneeling beside the couch on which she lay.
+
+For a long, silent space she gazed bewildered into the grave face bent
+over her own--striving to fathom whether this was another phase of an
+extraordinarily prolonged and harassing dream, or whether it had any
+bearing upon real life; then, as the pained, bewildered sensation
+deepened in her mind, it was suddenly illumined by a flash of
+recollection; and starting up, she caught Henderson's hand.
+
+But before she could speak he laid his fingers gently over her eyes.
+
+"You are not to think," he said. "To-night is past."
+
+"But Hellier Crescent? What happened after--after--?"
+
+Again he made a soothing movement.
+
+"You must not think of it. They gathered round me. They were generous.
+They heaped coals of fire."
+
+Enid lay silent, conscious with a keen yet poignant pleasure of his hand
+upon her face. Then suddenly a new thought obtruded itself, and drawing
+away his fingers, she looked up into his face.
+
+"And after to-night--?" she said, in a low, unsteady voice.
+
+For a moment he did not answer, and in the soft light it seemed to her
+that a shadow of pain passed over his face.
+
+Again she put out her hand and touched his.
+
+"What are you going to do?" she asked, below her breath.
+
+At last he raised his head and looked fully at her.
+
+"I am going back to the East. The hardest task of my life is awaiting me
+there. It is a very bitter thing to disillusionize the person to whom
+one is a hero."
+
+She looked at him quickly.
+
+"You are speaking of your mother? You are thinking of your mother?"
+
+He bent his head.
+
+For a space neither spoke. Vaguely, and in distant accompaniment to
+their thoughts, each was conscious of the hum of traffic and of the
+softly crackling fire; then at last Enid stirred, and with a gesture
+full of comprehension, her fingers closed round Henderson's.
+
+"Let me tell her the story!" she said, almost inaudibly. "Take me with
+you--and let me tell her! We are both women, and--" Her head drooped
+slightly; and her face flushed. "And we both love you."
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MYSTICS***
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+<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+    "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
+<html>
+<head>
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" />
+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Mystics, by Katherine Cecil Thurston</title>
+    <style type="text/css">
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+<body>
+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Mystics, by Katherine Cecil Thurston</h1>
+<pre>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: The Mystics</p>
+<p>       A Novel</p>
+<p>Author: Katherine Cecil Thurston</p>
+<p>Release Date: April 17, 2007  [eBook #21127]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MYSTICS***</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Storm,<br />
+    and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br />
+    (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+     <img src="images/cover.jpg" width="401" height="600"
+     alt=""
+     style="border: thin solid;" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+   <a id="gs01" name="gs01"></a>
+     <img src="images/gs01.jpg" width="376" height="600"
+     style="border: thin solid;"
+     alt="THE PROPHET WITH HIS FIXED GAZE UPON THE SCITSYM"
+     title="THE PROPHET WITH HIS FIXED GAZE UPON THE SCITSYM" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+     <img src="images/tp.jpg" width="378" height="600"
+     alt=""
+     style="border: thin solid;" />
+</div>
+
+<h1>THE MYSTICS<br /></h1>
+
+<h3>A Novel<br /><br /></h3>
+
+<h2>KATHERINE CECIL THURSTON<br /></h2>
+
+<h4>AUTHOR OF<br />
+"THE MASQUERADER" "THE GAMBLER"<br /></h4>
+
+<h4>ILLUSTRATED<br /></h4>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h5>HARPER &amp; BROTHERS PUBLISHERS<br />
+NEW YORK AND LONDON<br />
+MCMVII<br /><br /></h5>
+
+
+<h5>Copyright, 1904, by <span class="smcap">Katherine Cecil Thurston</span>.<br />
+<i>All rights reserved.</i><br />
+Published April, 1907.<br /></h5>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+
+<h5>To my Cousin<br />
+Nancy Inez Pollock</h5>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+     <img src="images/header.jpg" width="512" height="70"
+     alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<h2>TABLE OF CONTENTS</h2>
+
+<table summary="table of contents" style="width: 400px;">
+<colgroup span="2">
+<col width="350px"></col>
+<col width="50px"></col>
+</colgroup>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2"><a href="#ILLUSTRATIONS"><b>ILLUSTRATIONS</b></a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><b>CHAPTER I</b></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">1</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><b>CHAPTER II</b></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">20</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><b>CHAPTER III</b></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">43</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><b>CHAPTER IV</b></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">63</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><b>CHAPTER V</b></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">74</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><b>CHAPTER VI</b></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">85</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><b>CHAPTER VII</b></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">97</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><b>CHAPTER VIII</b></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">116</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><b>CHAPTER IX</b></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">130</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><b>CHAPTER X</b></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">152</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+     <img src="images/header.jpg" width="512" height="70"
+     alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="ILLUSTRATIONS" id="ILLUSTRATIONS"></a>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2>
+
+<table summary="list of illustrations" style="width: 600px;">
+<colgroup span="2">
+<col width="450px"></col>
+<col width="150px"></col>
+</colgroup>
+<tr>
+<td><b>"THE PROPHET WITH HIS FIXED GAZE UPON THE SCITSYM"</b></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#gs01"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><b>"THE FIGURE OF HIS UNCLE ... SHOWED TALL AND ANGULAR IN THE APERTURE"</b></td>
+<td class="tdr"><i>Facing</i> <span style="word-spacing: .5em;"><i>p.</i> <a href="#gs02">20</a></span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><b>"HE ... GATHERED THE FIRST SHEAF OF LEAVES INTO HIS FINGERS"</b></td>
+<td class="tdr"><span style="word-spacing: 1em;">" <a href="#gs03">40</a></span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><b>"ACROSS THE PROPHET'S BREAST, IN MARKS OF A CRUEL LACERATION, RAN THE SYMBOLIC OCTAGONAL FIGURE<br />
+OF THE MYSTIC SECT"</b></td>
+<td class="tdr"><span style="word-spacing: 1em;">" <a href="#gs04">56</a></span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><b>"WITH A FRESH BURST OF TEARS, SHE TURNED AND FLUNG HERSELF UPON THE COUCH"</b></td>
+<td class="tdr"><span style="word-spacing: .3em;">" <a href="#gs05">116</a></span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><b>"HER HAND WAS TREMBLING AS SHE RAISED THE HEAVY KNOCKER"</b></td>
+<td class="tdr"><span style="word-spacing: .3em;">" <a href="#gs06">136</a></span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><b>"'I AM IN NEED OF HELP ... AND YOU CAN HELP ME'"</b></td>
+<td class="tdr"><span style="word-spacing: .3em;">" <a href="#gs07">146</a></span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><b>"SHE SAW THE FIGURE OF THE PROPHET ... ATTENDED BY THE PRECURSOR AND THE SIX ARCH-MYSTICS"</b></td>
+<td class="tdr"><span style="word-spacing: .3em;">" <a href="#gs08">158</a></span></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+     <img src="images/header.jpg" width="512" height="70"
+     alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p>
+<h2>THE MYSTICS</h2>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2>
+
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+	<img class="plain" src="images/drop01.jpg"  width="74" height="75"
+		alt="O"
+		title="O" />
+</span>
+f all the sensations to which the human mind is a prey, there is none
+so powerful in its finality, so chilling in its sense of an impending
+event as the knowledge that Death&mdash;grim, implacable Death&mdash;has cast his
+shadow on a life that custom and circumstance have rendered familiar.
+Whatever the personal feeling may be&mdash;whether dismay, despair, or
+relief&mdash;no man or woman can watch that advancing shadow without a
+quailing at the heart, an individual shrinking from the terrible,
+natural mystery that we must all face in turn&mdash;each for himself and each
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span>alone.</p>
+
+<p>In a gaunt house on the loneliest point where the Scottish coast
+overlooks the Irish Sea, John Henderson was watching his uncle die. In
+the plain, whitewashed room where the sick man lay, a fire was burning
+and a couple of oil-lamps shed an uncertain glow; but outside, the wind
+roared inland from the shore, and the rain splashed in furious showers
+against the windows of the house. It was a night of tumult and darkness;
+but neither the old man who lay waiting for the end nor the young man
+who watched that end approaching gave any heed to the turmoil of the
+elements. Each was self-engrossed.</p>
+
+<p>Except for an occasional rasping cough, or a slow, indrawn breath, no
+sign came from the small iron bedstead on which the dying man lay. His
+hard, emaciated face was set in an impenetrable mask; his glazed eyes
+were fixed immovably on a distant portion of the ceiling; and his hands
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span>lay clasped upon his breast, covering some object that depended from
+his neck.</p>
+
+<p>He had lain thus since the doctor from the neighboring town had braved
+the rising storm and ridden over to see him in the fall of the evening;
+and no accentuation of the gale that lashed the house, no increase in
+the roar of the ocean three hundred yards away, had power to interrupt
+his lethargy.</p>
+
+<p>In curious contrast was the expression that marked his nephew's face. An
+extraordinary suppressed energy was visible in every line of John
+Henderson's body as he sat crouching over the fire; and a look of
+irrepressible excitement smoldered in the eyes that gazed into the
+glowing coals. He was barely twenty-three years old, but the
+self-control that comes from endurance and privation sat unmistakably on
+his knitted brows and closed lips. He was neither handsome of feature
+nor graceful of figure, yet there was something more striking and
+interesting than either grace or beauty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> in the strong, youthful form
+and the strong, intelligent face. For a long time he retained his
+crouching seat on the wooden stool that stood before the hearth; then at
+last the activity at work within his mind made further inaction
+intolerable. He rose and turned towards the bed.</p>
+
+<p>The dying man lay motionless, awaiting the final summons with that
+aloofness that suggests a spirit already partially extricated from its
+covering of flesh. His glassy eyes were still fixed and immovable save
+for an occasional twitching of the eyelids; his pallid lips were drawn
+back from his strong, prominent teeth; and the skin about his temples
+looked shrivelled and sallow. The doctor's parting words came sharply to
+the younger man's mind.</p>
+
+<p>"Sit still and watch him&mdash;you can do no more."</p>
+
+<p>He reiterated this injunction many times mentally as he stood
+contemplating the man<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> who for seven interminable years had ruled,
+repressed, and worked him as he might have worked a well-constructed,
+manageable machine; and a sudden rush of joy, of freedom and recompense
+flooded his heart and set his pulses throbbing. He momentarily lost
+sight of the grim shadow hovering over the house. The sense of
+emancipation rose tumultuously, over-ruling even the immense solemnity
+of approaching Death.</p>
+
+<p>John Henderson had known little of the easy, pleasant paths of life,
+carpeted by wealth and sheltered by influence. His most childish and
+distant recollections carried him back to days of anxious poverty. His
+father, the elder son of a wealthy Scottish landowner, had quarrelled
+with his father, and at the age of twenty left his home, disinherited in
+favor of his younger brother. Possessed of a peculiar
+temperament&mdash;passionate, headstrong, dogged in his resolves, he had
+shaken the dust of Scotland from his feet; sworn<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> never to be beholden
+to either father or brother for the fraction of a penny, and had gone
+out into the world to seek his fortune. But the fortune had been far to
+seek. For years he had followed the sea; for years he had toiled on
+land; but in every undertaking failure stalked him. Finally, at the age
+of fifty, he touched success for the first time. He fell in love and
+found his love returned. But here again the irony of fate was constant
+in its pursuit. The object of his choice was the daughter of an artist,
+a man as needy, as entirely unfortunate as he himself.</p>
+
+<p>But love at fifty is sometimes as blind as love at twenty-five. With an
+improvidence that belied his nationality, Alick Henderson married after
+a courtship as brief as it was happy. For a year he shared the
+hap-hazard life of his wife and father-in-law; then Nature saw fit to
+alter the small <i>m&eacute;nage</i>. The artist died, and almost at the same time
+little John was born.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>With the coming of the child, Henderson conceived a new impetus and also
+a new sense of bitterness and self-reproach. A homeless failure may
+tramp the face of the earth and feel no shame; but the unsuccessful man
+who is a husband and a father moves upon a different plane. He has
+ties&mdash;responsibilities&mdash;something for which he must answer to himself.</p>
+
+<p>There is pathos in the picture of a man setting forth at fifty-one to
+conquer the world anew; and its grim futility is not good to look upon.
+Henderson had failed for himself, and he failed equally for others. The
+years that followed his marriage were but the unwinding of a pitifully
+old story. Before his boy was ten years old he had run the gamut of
+humiliation; he had done everything that the pinch of poverty could
+demand, except apply for aid to his brother Andrew. This even the
+faithful, patient wife who had stood stanch in all his trials never
+dared to suggest.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>In this atmosphere John learned to look upon life. A naturally
+high-spirited and courageous child, he gradually fell under that spell
+of premature understanding that is the portion of a mind forced too soon
+to realize the significance of ways and means. Day by day his serious
+eyes grew to comprehend the lines that marked his mother's beloved face;
+to know the cost at which his own education, his own wants, were
+supplied by the tired, silent father, who, despite his shabby clothes
+and prematurely broken air, seemed perpetually to move in the glamour of
+a past romance; and gradually, steadily, passionately, as these things
+came home to him, there grew up in his youthful mind a desire to
+compensate by his own future for the struggle he daily witnessed.</p>
+
+<p>Many were the nights when&mdash;his lessons for the next day finished, and
+his father away at one of the many precarious tasks that kept the
+household together&mdash;he would draw close to his mother, as she sat
+industriously sewing,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> and beg her for the hundredth time to recount the
+story of the grim Scotch home where his father had lost his birthright;
+of the stern old grandfather who had died inexorably unforgiving; of the
+unknown uncle of whom rumor told many eccentric stories. And, roused by
+the recital, his boyish face would flush, his boyish mind leap forward
+towards the future.</p>
+
+<p>"'Twill all come back, mother!" he would cry. "'Twill all come back!
+I'll win it back!"</p>
+
+<p>And, with a sobbing laugh, his mother would drop her sewing and draw him
+to her heart in a sudden yearning of love and pride.</p>
+
+<p>In such surroundings and in such an atmosphere he passed sixteen years;
+then the first upheaval of his life took place. His father died.</p>
+
+<p>His first recollection&mdash;when the terrible necessities of the event were
+past, and his own grief and consternation had partially subsided&mdash;was
+the remembrance of his mother<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> calling him to her room; of her kissing
+him, crying over him and telling him of the resolve she had taken to
+write and make known his existence to his uncle in Scotland.</p>
+
+<p>The confession at first overwhelmed him. His own pride, his sense of
+loyalty to his father's memory prompted him to cry out against the idea
+as against a sacrilege. Then slowly his boyish, immature mind grasped
+something of the nobility that prompted the decision&mdash;something of the
+inexpressible love that counted sentiment and personal dignity as
+nothing beside his own future; and in a passion of gratitude he flung
+his arms about his mother, repeating the old childish vows with a new
+and deeper force.</p>
+
+<p>So the letter to Scotland was despatched; and a time of sharp suspense
+followed for mother and son. Then, one never-to-be-forgotten day, the
+answer arrived.</p>
+
+<p>Andrew Henderson wrote unemotionally. He expressed formal regret for his
+brother's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> death, but evinced no interest in his sister-in-law's
+position. He briefly described himself as living an isolated life in a
+small house on the sea-coast, a dozen miles from the family home which
+had remained untenanted since his father's death. He admitted that with
+advancing years the duties of life had begun to weigh upon him,
+diverting his mind and time from the graver pursuits to which his life
+was devoted; finally he grudgingly suggested that, should his nephew
+care to undertake the duties of secretary at a salary of sixty pounds a
+year, he might find a home with him.</p>
+
+<p>The immediate feeling that followed the reading of the letter was
+fraught with chilling disappointment. On the moment, pride again
+asserted itself, urging a swift refusal of the rich man's proposal; then
+once more the patience that had kept Mrs. Henderson brave and gentle
+during seventeen years of wearing poverty made itself felt. All<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> thought
+of personal grievance faded from her mind as she pointed out the urgent
+necessity of John's being seen and known by this uncle, whose only
+relation and ostensible heir he was. She talked for long, wisely and
+kindly&mdash;as mothers talk out of the unselfish fulness of their
+hearts&mdash;and with every word the golden castles of her imagination rose
+tower on tower to form the citadel in which her son was to reign
+supreme.</p>
+
+<p>So wisely and so lovingly did she talk that she persuaded not only the
+boy, but herself, into the belief that he had but to reach Scotland to
+make his inheritance sure; and before the day closed she wrote to Andrew
+Henderson accepting his offer. A week later the whole light of her life
+went out, as she watched the train steam out of the station, carrying
+John northward.</p>
+
+<p>Upon the days that followed his arrival in Scotland there is no need to
+dwell. He came as a stranger, and as a stranger he was introduced<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> by
+his uncle to the routine of work expected of him. No mention was made of
+his recent loss, no suggestion was given that his mother should make her
+double bereavement easier by visits to her son. Whatever of hope or
+sentiment he had brought with him, he was left to destroy or smother as
+best he could.</p>
+
+<p>The first week resolved itself into one round of boyish homesickness and
+desolation; then gradually, as the marvellous healing properties of
+youth began to stir, a new feeling awakened in his mind&mdash;a sense of
+curiosity concerning the strange old man whom fate, by a twist of the
+wheel, had made the arbiter of his life. Even to one so young and
+inexperienced, it was impossible to know Andrew Henderson and not to
+feel that some strange peculiarity set him apart from other men. In his
+ascetic face, in his large, light-blue eyes, in his extraordinary air of
+abstraction and aloofness from mundane things, there<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> was something that
+fascinated and repelled; and with a wondering interest the boy studied
+these things, trying in his unformed way to reconcile them with his
+narrow experience of human nature.</p>
+
+<p>For many weeks he sought without success for some key to the attitude of
+this new-found relative. Then one evening&mdash;when solution seemed least
+near&mdash;the key, metaphorically speaking, fell at his feet. Returning home
+from a ramble over the headland, his observant eye was caught by the
+sight of a narrow foot-track that, crossing the main pathway of the
+cliff, wound steeply upward and seemingly lost itself in a tangle of
+gorse and bracken. Stirred by a boyish desire for exploration, he
+paused, turned into this obscure track, and incontinently began its
+ascent.</p>
+
+<p>For some hundreds of yards it led upward in a sharp incline; and with
+its added steepness, the ardor of the explorer warmed. With<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> impetuous
+haste he climbed the last dozen yards; when, as the anticipated summit
+was reached, he halted in abrupt, dismayed surprise; for with alarming
+suddenness the land broke off short, disclosing a deep gap or fissure,
+carpeted with heather and surrounded by natural protecting walls of
+rock, in the centre of which was set a miniature chapel built of dark
+stone.</p>
+
+<p>At sight of the little edifice, he thrilled with adventurous surprise.
+There was something mysterious, something almost fine in the sight of
+the small temple, with the setting sun gleaming on its solid walls, its
+low, massive door and round window of thick stained glass. He leaned out
+over the shelving rock, staring down upon it with wide, astonished eyes;
+then the natural instinct of the boy overtopped every other feeling.
+With a quick-movement of excitement and expectation, he began to descend
+into the hollow.</p>
+
+<p>But though he walked round the little building<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> a dozen times, shook the
+heavy door and peered ineffectually into the opaque window, nothing
+rewarded his curiosity, and after half an hour of diligent endeavor he
+was compelled to return home no wiser than when he had first stood on
+the summit of the path and looked down into the rocky cleft.</p>
+
+<p>All that evening, however, the thought of his discovery remained with
+him. At the eight-o'clock supper of porridge, vegetables, and fruit
+which he shared with his uncle, he chafed under the silence of his
+companion and at the air of calm indifference that the whitewashed room
+with its raftered ceiling seemed to wear; and it was with a sigh of
+satisfaction that he rose from table and bade his uncle a formal
+good-night.</p>
+
+<p>With the same suggestion of relief, he watched the old man light his
+candle and ascend the bare stairs to his own room; then prompted by the
+impulse he never neglected, he went into the study to write the daily<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span>
+letter that made his mother's existence bearable.</p>
+
+<p>He wrote for nearly an hour, omitting no detail of the evening's
+discovery. Then, as he closed and sealed the letter, a clock on the
+mantel-piece struck ten. The sound had an oddly hollow and chilly effect
+in the bare, carpetless room; and unconsciously he raised his head and
+glanced about him. His ideas, still stirred by his adventure, were more
+prone than usual to the suggestion of outward things; and for almost the
+first time since his arrival, he felt drawn to study his intimate
+surroundings. With a new curiosity he let his eyes wander from the
+severe book-shelves to the ugly iron safe that stood in the most
+prominent position in the room; and from the safe his glance turned to
+the revolving bookcase by his uncle's favorite chair, in which lay the
+volumes that were in daily use. Following an impulse he had never
+previously been conscious of, he crossed the room, and drawing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> three
+books, at hap-hazard from the case, studied their titles.</p>
+
+<p><i>The Indissoluble Essence</i>, he read; <i>The Soul in Relation to the Human
+Mind</i>; <i>The Mystic Influence</i>.</p>
+
+<p>He stood for a space gazing at the sombre covers, but making no attempt
+to dip into their pages; then a sudden look of comprehension sprang into
+his eyes. The oddly built stone chapel took on a new and more personal
+meaning. With a quick gesture he thrust the books back into their place,
+extinguished the lamp, and softly left the room. Gaining the hall, he
+did not turn towards the stairs; but tiptoeing to the table, picked up
+his cap, crossed the hall noiselessly and opened the outer door.</p>
+
+<p>The warmth of the August day was still heavy on the air as he stepped
+into the open; a great copper-colored moon hung low over the sea, and a
+soft, filmy haze lay over both land and water. Without hesitation he
+turned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> into the cliff path, and followed it until his quick eyes caught
+the indistinct foot-track that he had discovered earlier in the evening.
+With the same decision, the same suggestion of anticipation, he stepped
+rapidly forward and once more began the sharp ascent.</p>
+
+<p>The impetus of his curiosity carried him forward; he mounted the path in
+hot haste; then, as he gained the summit, he halted again, but in new
+surprise. In the hazy, mellow moonlight, the small building stood out
+sharp and dark as on his previous visit, but from the round,
+stained-glass window a flood of light&mdash;crimson, rose-color, and
+gold&mdash;poured out into the night.</p>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+     <img src="images/header.jpg" width="512" height="70"
+     alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2>
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+	<img class="plain" src="images/drop02.jpg"  width="75" height="75"
+		alt="I"
+		title="I" />
+</span>
+n the first moment of astonishment, John stood motionless, his gaze
+riveted on the glow of color that poured through the window upon the
+rocks and heather of the cleft. Then, as he continued to stand with
+widely opened eyes, another surprise was sprung upon him. The door of
+the chapel opened and the figure of his uncle&mdash;long since supposed to be
+sleeping tranquilly in his own room&mdash;showed tall and angular in the
+aperture.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+   <a id="gs02" name="gs02"></a>
+     <img src="images/gs02.jpg"  width="302" height="600"
+     style="border: thin solid;"
+     alt="THE FIGURE OF HIS UNCLE ... SHOWED TALL AND ANGULAR IN THE APERTURE"
+     title="THE FIGURE OF HIS UNCLE ... SHOWED TALL AND ANGULAR IN THE APERTURE" />
+</div>
+
+<p>From John's position, the open door and the lighted interior of the
+little edifice were distinctly visible; and in one glance he saw his
+uncle's silhouetted figure and behind it a bare space some dozen feet
+square, lined on floor and walls with sections of marble alternately
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>black and white. From the ceiling of this chamber depended an
+octagonal symbol in polished metal, and close by the door eight wax
+candles flickered slightly in the faint stir of air. But his astonished
+and inquisitive eyes had barely become aware of these details when
+Andrew Henderson turned towards the circular sconce in which the candles
+were set and began to extinguish them one by one. As the light died, he
+stepped forward and John drew back sharply; but at his movement a stone,
+loosened by his heel, went rolling down into the hollow. And a moment
+later his uncle, glancing up, saw his figure outlined against the
+luminous sky.</p>
+
+<p>What the outcome of the incident would have been on any other occasion,
+it is difficult to say. As it was, the moment was propitious. Old
+Henderson, surprised in an instant of exaltation, was pleased to put his
+own narrow, superstitious construction on the boy's appearance. Laboring
+under an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> abnormal excitement, he showed no resentment at the fact of
+being spied upon; but calling John to him, ordered him to walk home
+beside him across the cliff.</p>
+
+<p>Never was walk so strange&mdash;never were companions so ill-matched as the
+two who threaded their way back over the headland. Andrew Henderson
+walked first, talking all the time in a jargon addressed partly to the
+boy, partly to himself, in which mysticism was oddly tangled with a
+confusion of crazy theories and beliefs; behind came John, half
+fascinated and wholly bewildered by the medley of words that poured out
+upon the night.</p>
+
+<p>On reaching the house, the old man became suddenly silent again, falling
+back as if by habit into the morose absorption that marked his daily
+life; but as he turned to mount the stairs to his own room, he paused
+and his curious light-blue eyes travelled over his nephew's face.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Good-night!" he said. "You make a good listener."</p>
+
+<p>And John&mdash;still confused and silent&mdash;retired to bed, to lie awake for
+many hours, partly thrilled and partly elated by the awesome thought
+that there was a madman in the house.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>But all that had happened seven years ago, and now Andrew Henderson lay
+waiting for his end. In those seven years John had passed through the
+mill of deadly monotony that saps even youth, and lulls every instinct
+save hope. The first enthusiasm of romance that had wrapped the
+discovery of his uncle's secret had faded out with time. By slow degrees
+he had learned&mdash;partly from his own observation, partly from the old
+man's occasional fanatic outbursts&mdash;that the strange chapel with its
+metal symbol and marble floor was not the outcome of a private whim, but
+the manifestation of a creed that boasted a small<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> but ardent band of
+followers. He had learned that&mdash;to themselves, if not to the
+world&mdash;these devotees were known as the Mystics; that their articles of
+faith were preserved in a secret book designated the Scitsym, which
+passed in rotation each year from one to another of the six
+Arch-Mystics, remaining in the care of each for two months out of the
+twelve. He had discovered that London was the Centre of this sect; and
+that its fundamental belief was the anticipation of a mysterious
+prophet&mdash;human, and yet divinely inspired&mdash;by whose coming the light was
+to extend from the small and previously unknown band across the whole
+benighted world.</p>
+
+<p>He had learned all these things. He had been stirred to a passing awe by
+the discovery that his uncle was, in his own person, actually one of the
+profound Six who formed the Council of the sect and to whom alone the
+secrets of its creed were known; and for three successive years his
+interest and curiosity had been kindled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> when Andrew Henderson travelled
+to England and returned with the Arch-Councillor&mdash;an old blind man of
+seventy&mdash;who invariably spent one day and night mysteriously closeted
+with his host and then left, having deposited the sacred Scitsym with
+his own hands in the tall iron safe that stood in Henderson's study. But
+that annual excitement had lessened with time. Even a madman may become
+monotonous when we live with him, day in, day out, for seven long years;
+and gradually the attitude of John's mind had changed with the passage
+of time. The sense of adventure and triumphant enterprise had steadily
+receded; the knowledge that he was working out a slow, distasteful
+probation had advanced. Reluctantly and yet definitely he had realized
+that his position was not to come and conquer, but to watch and wait;
+and this consciousness of a tacitly expected end had grown with the
+years&mdash;with the growth of his mind and body. It was not that he was
+hard-natured.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> The regularity with which he despatched his yearly money
+to his mother&mdash;reserving the merest fraction for himself&mdash;precluded that
+idea. But he was young and human, and he was youthfully and humanly
+greedy to possess the good things of life for himself and for the one
+being he passionately loved. It would, indeed, have been an enthusiast
+in virtue who could have blamed him for counting upon dead men's shoes.</p>
+
+<p>And now the shoes were all but empty! He stood watching his uncle die!</p>
+
+<p>Having stayed almost motionless for several minutes, he glanced at the
+clock; then moved to the bed, taking a bottle and a medicine spoon from
+the dressing-table as he passed.</p>
+
+<p>"Time for your medicine, uncle!" he said, in his quiet, level voice.</p>
+
+<p>But the sick man did not seem to hear.</p>
+
+<p>In a slightly louder tone John repeated his remark. This time the vacant
+expression faded<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> slowly from the large, pale eyes, and Andrew Henderson
+moved his head weakly.</p>
+
+<p>Seeing the indication of consciousness, John carefully measured out a
+dose of medicine, and, stooping over the pillows, passed one arm under
+his uncle's neck.</p>
+
+<p>Andrew Henderson submitted without objection, but as his head was raised
+and the medicine held to his lips, he seemed suddenly to realize the
+position, to comprehend that it was his nephew who leaned over him. With
+a spasmodic movement he turned towards John, his lips twitching with
+some inward and newly aroused excitement.</p>
+
+<p>"The Book, John!" he said, sharply&mdash;"the Book!"</p>
+
+<p>John remained quite composed. With a steady hand he balanced the spoon
+of medicine that he still held.</p>
+
+<p>"Your medicine first, uncle," he said, quietly. "We'll talk about the
+Book after."</p>
+
+<p>But the old man's calm had been disturbed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> With unexpected strength he
+raised one thin hand and pushed the spoon aside, spilling the contents
+on the bed.</p>
+
+<p>"How can I leave it?" he exclaimed. "How can I go and leave the Book
+unguarded?" Again his lips twitched and a feverish brightness flickered
+in his eyes as they searched his nephew's face.</p>
+
+<p>"When I go, John," he added, excitedly, "the Book may be in your keeping
+for hours&mdash;perhaps for a whole night. I know the Arch-Councillor will
+answer my summons immediately; but it is possible he may be delayed. It
+may be the ordination of the Unknown that I should Pass before he
+arrives. If this is so, I want you to guard the Book&mdash;but also I want
+you to guard my dead body. Let no one touch it until he comes. The key
+of the safe is here&mdash;" He fumbled weakly for the thin chain that hung
+about his neck. "No one must remove it&mdash;no one must touch it until he
+comes&mdash;" His voice faltered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>With a calm gesture John forced him back upon the pillows, and quietly
+wiped up the medicine.</p>
+
+<p>But with a fresh effort the old man lifted himself again.</p>
+
+<p>"John," he cried, suddenly, "do you understand what I am saying? Do you
+understand that for a whole night you may be alone with the inviolable
+Scitsym? 'The Hope of the Universe, by whose Light alone the One and
+Only Prophet shall be made known unto the Watchers!'" He murmured the
+quotation in a low, rapt voice.</p>
+
+<p>Again the younger man attempted to soothe him.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't distress yourself!" he said, gravely. "I am here. You can trust
+me. Lie back and rest."</p>
+
+<p>But his uncle's face was still excitedly perturbed; his pale eyes still
+possessed an unnatural brightness.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh yes!" he said, sharply, "I trust you!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> I have trusted you. I have
+left a letter by which you will see that I have trusted you&mdash;and that
+your fidelity has been rewarded. But this is another matter. Can I trust
+you in this? Can I trust you as myself?" As he put the question a sweat
+of weakness and excitement broke out over his forehead.</p>
+
+<p>But it was neither his wild appearance nor his question that suddenly
+sent the blood into John's face and suddenly set his heart bounding. It
+was the abrupt and unlooked-for justification of his own secret,
+treasured hope; the tacit acknowledgment of kinship and obligation made
+now by Andrew Henderson after seven unfruitful years. A mist rose before
+his sight and his mind swam. What was the mad creed of a dying man&mdash;of a
+dozen dying men&mdash;when the reward of his own long probation awaited him?</p>
+
+<p>But the old man was set to his purpose. With shaking fingers he fumbled
+with two small objects that depended from the chain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> about his neck. And
+as he held them up, John saw by the glow of the lamp that one was a copy
+in miniature of the metal symbol that decorated the little chapel, the
+other a long, thin key.</p>
+
+<p>As Henderson disentangled and raised these objects to the light, his
+eyes turned again upon his nephew.</p>
+
+<p>"John," he said, tremulously, "I want you to swear to me by the Sign
+that you will not touch my body&mdash;nor anything on my body&mdash;till the
+Arch-Councillor comes! Swear, as you hope for your own happiness!" A
+wild illumination spread over his face; the unpleasant fanatical light
+showed again in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment John looked at him; then stirred by his own emotions, by
+the new pang of self-reproach and gratitude towards this half-crazy man
+so near his end, he went forward and touched the small octagonal symbol
+that gleamed in the light.</p>
+
+<p>"I swear&mdash;by the Sign!" he said, in a low,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> level voice. And almost as
+the words escaped him, the chain slipped from old Henderson's fingers,
+his jaw dropped, and his head fell forward on his chest.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>The moments that follow an important event are seldom of a nature to be
+accurately analyzed. For a long while John remained motionless and
+speechless, unable to realize that the huddled figure still warm in his
+arms was in reality the vessel of clay from which a spirit had escaped.
+Then suddenly the realization of the position came to him; with a sharp
+movement he stood upright, and seizing the bell-rope, pulled it
+vigorously.</p>
+
+<p>When the old woman who attended to the household appeared, he pointed to
+her master's body and explained in a few words how the end had come; and
+how in a last urgent command Henderson had forbidden his body to be
+touched until the arrival of a member of his religious sect. The old
+woman accepted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> the explanation with the apathy common to those who have
+outlived emotion; and with a series of nods and unintelligible
+mutterings methodically proceeded to straighten the already neatly
+arranged furniture of the room, in the instinctive belief that order is
+the first tribute to be paid to Death.</p>
+
+<p>With something of the same feeling John drew the coverlet over the dead
+body, then turned to watch the old woman at her work. But as he looked
+at her a desire to be alone again swept over him, and with the desire a
+corresponding impatience of her slow and measured movements. Chide
+himself as he might for his impatience, curb his natural instinct as he
+might, it was humanly impossible that his strong and eager spirit could
+give thought to Death&mdash;while Life was claiming him with out-stretched
+hands.</p>
+
+<p>He held himself rigidly in check until the last chair had been arranged
+and the last cinder swept from the hearth; then as the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> old woman slowly
+crossed the room and stepped out into the corridor, he sprang with
+irrepressible impetuosity and shut and locked the door.</p>
+
+<p>He had no superstitious consciousness of the dead body so close at hand.
+The dead body&mdash;and with it the dead years and the long
+probation&mdash;belonged to the past; he with his youth, his strength, his
+hope, was bound for the limitless future.</p>
+
+<p>Without a moment's hesitation he crossed to his uncle's bureau, which
+stood as he had left it three days before when his last illness had
+seized upon him. The papers were all in order; the ink was as yet
+scarcely rusted on the pens; the key protruded from the lock of the
+private drawer. With a tremor of excitement John extended his hand,
+turned it and opened the drawer; then he caught his breath. There lay a
+square white envelope addressed to himself in his uncle's fantastic,
+crooked handwriting.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>As he drew it out and held it for a moment in his hand, his thoughts
+centred unerringly round one object. In a moment, the seven years of
+waiting&mdash;the strange death scene just enacted&mdash;even Andrew Henderson and
+his mystical creed&mdash;were blotted from his mind by a wonderful
+rose-colored mist of hope, from which one face looked out&mdash;the patient,
+tender, pathetic face of the mother he adored. The emotions, so long
+suppressed, welled up as they had been wont to do years ago in the
+sordid London home.</p>
+
+<p>With a throb of confidence and anticipation he inserted his finger under
+the flap of the envelope and tore it open. With lightning speed his eyes
+skimmed the oddly written lines. Then a short, inarticulate sound
+escaped him, and the blood suddenly receded from his face.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">My dear Nephew</span>," he read.&mdash;"In acknowledgment of your services
+during the past seven years&mdash;and also because I have no wish to
+pass into<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> the Unseen with the stain of vindictiveness on my
+Soul&mdash;I have obliterated from my mind the remembrance of my
+brother's ingratitude to our father, and have placed the sum of
+&pound;500 to your credit in the Cleef branch of the Consolidated Bank. I
+trust it may assist you to commence an industrious career. For the
+rest, it may interest you to know that my capital, which I realized
+upon your grandfather's death, is already placed in the treasury of
+the sect to which I belong&mdash;where it will remain until claimed by
+the One in whose ultimate advent I most solemnly believe.</p>
+
+<p>"I make you cognizant of these facts that all disputes and
+unnecessary differences may be avoided after my death. The papers
+by which my property was made over to the Mystics some five years
+ago&mdash;together with a doctor's certificate as to my mental soundness
+at the time&mdash;is in the hands of the Council. Any attempt to unmake
+this disposition of my fortune would be fraught with failure.</p>
+
+<p>"With sincere hopes for your future welfare,<br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">"Your uncle,<br /></span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 8em;">"</span><span class="smcap">Andrew Henderson</span>."<br />
+</p></div>
+
+<p>For a space John stood pale and rigid, making no attempt to reread the
+letter; then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> all at once one of those rare and curious upheavals of
+feeling that shake men to their souls seized upon him. The blood rushed
+back into his face in a dark wave; the rose-colored mist that had
+floated before his vision flamed suddenly to red; the same implacable
+rage that, years ago, had impelled his grandfather to disinherit his
+favorite son swelled in his heart. All ideas, all considerations, save
+one, became blurred and indistinct; but this one idea rode him, spurred
+him to a frenzy of desire. It was the blind, instinctive, human wish to
+wreak his loss and disappointment upon some tangible, visible object.</p>
+
+<p>With a dazed movement he turned to the bed; but only the huddled,
+impassive figure beneath the coverlet met his gaze. For more than a
+minute he stared at it helplessly; then a new thought shot across his
+mind and his lips drew together in a thin, hard line. The road to
+revenge lay open before him! With<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> an abrupt gesture he stepped forward
+and pulled back the counterpane.</p>
+
+<p>In the yellow lamp-light the thin face of the dead man had an ashen hue;
+the half-opened eyes and the prominent teeth, from which the lips had
+partly receded, confronted him grewsomely. But the force of his
+disappointment and rage was something before which mere human horror was
+swept aside. With another rapid movement, he stooped over the bed and
+unclasped the thin gold chain that hung round the dead man's neck,
+letting the metal symbol and the long, thin key slip from it into his
+hand. Turning to the dressing-table, he caught up a lamp; hurried from
+the room; and, descending the stairs, passed into the study.</p>
+
+<p>To his excited glance the place looked strangely undisturbed. Though the
+frames of the windows rattled in the gale, the interior arrangements
+were as precise and bare as usual; the fireless grate stared at him
+coldly,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> and against the whitewashed wall the heavy iron safe stood out
+like an accentuated blot of shadow. Impelled by his one dominating idea,
+he crossed without an instant's hesitation to the door of this hitherto
+inviolable repository of his uncle's secrets, and, inserting the key he
+carried, threw back the massive door.</p>
+
+<p>One glance showed him the thing he sought. Lying in solitary state upon
+the highest shelf was a heavy book bound in white leather. The edges of
+the cover were worn yellow with time and use, and from the centre of the
+binding gleamed the familiar octagonal symbol exquisitely wrought in
+gold and jewels. With hands that trembled slightly he lifted the book
+from its place, closed and locked the door of the safe, and,
+extinguishing the lamp, left the room.</p>
+
+<p>In the flood of unreasoning rage and thwarted hope that surged about
+him, he had no definite plan regarding the object in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> his hand. He only
+knew, by the medium of instinct, that through it he could strike a blow
+at the uncle who had excluded him from his just inheritance&mdash;at the
+crazy scheme by which he had been defrauded of his due.</p>
+
+<p>With hasty steps he mounted the stairs and re-entered the bedroom. To
+his agitated mind it seemed but just that, whatever his vengeance, it
+should be accomplished in the grim, unconscious presence of the dead
+man.</p>
+
+<p>Stepping into the room, he paused and looked about him, seeking some
+suggestion. As he stood there, his eyes, by a natural process of
+inspiration, fell upon the fire that glowed and crackled in the grate;
+and with a sharp, inarticulate sound of satisfaction he strode forward
+to the hearth, knelt down, and prepared for his work of destruction.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+   <a id="gs03" name="gs03"></a>
+     <img src="images/gs03.jpg"  width="372" height="600"
+     style="border: thin solid;"
+     alt="HE ... GATHERED THE FIRST SHEAF OF LEAVES INTO HIS FINGERS"
+     title="HE ... GATHERED THE FIRST SHEAF OF LEAVES INTO HIS FINGERS" />
+</div>
+
+<p>As he crouched over the flames a fresh gale swept inland from the sea,
+seizing the house in its fierce embrace; and the red tongues of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>fire
+leaped up the chimney in the instant answer of element to element.</p>
+
+<p>Instinctively he bent forward, opened the book and gathered the first
+sheaf of leaves into his fingers. Then, involuntarily, he paused, as the
+bold characters of the printed words shot up black and clear in the
+fierce glow.</p>
+
+<p>Almost without volition he read the opening lines:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"Out of obscurity will He come. And&mdash;having proved Himself&mdash;no man
+will question Him. For the Past lies in the Great Unknown. By the
+Scitsym&mdash;from which none but the Chosen may read&mdash;will ye know Him;
+and, knowing Him, ye will bow down&mdash;Mystics, Arch-Mystics, and
+Arch-Councillor alike. And the World will be His. For He will be
+Power made absolute!"</p></div>
+
+<p>"For he will be Power made absolute!" Something in the six simple words
+arrested Henderson, suspended his thoughts and checked his hand. By an
+odd psychological<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> process his rage became chilled, his mind veered from
+its point of view. With a curious stiffness of motion he drew away from
+the fire&mdash;the book held uninjured in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"He will be Power made absolute!" he repeated, mechanically, as he rose
+slowly to his feet.</p>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+     <img src="images/header.jpg" width="512" height="70"
+     alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2>
+
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+	<img class="plain" src="images/drop03.jpg"  width="74" height="75"
+		alt="O"
+		title="O" />
+</span>
+n a certain night in mid-January, exactly ten years after Andrew
+Henderson's death, any one of the multitudinous inhabitants of London
+whom business or pleasure carried to that division of Brompton known as
+Hellier Crescent, would undoubtedly have been attracted to the house
+distinguished from its fellows as No. 8.</p>
+
+<p>Outwardly, this house was not remarkable. It possessed the massive
+portico and the imposing frontage that lend to Hellier Crescent its air
+of dignified repose; but there its similarity to the surrounding
+dwellings ended. The basement sent forth no glow of warmth and comfort,
+as did the neighboring basements; the ground-floor windows permitted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> no
+ray of mellow light to slip through the chinks of shutter or curtain.
+From attic to cellar, the house seemed in darkness, the only suggestion
+of occupation coming from the occasional drawing back and forth of a
+small slide that guarded a monastic-looking grating set in the hall
+door.</p>
+
+<p>And yet towards this unlighted and unfriendly dwelling a thin stream of
+people&mdash;all on foot and all evidently agitated&mdash;made their way
+continuously on that January night between the hours of ten and eleven.
+The behavior of these people, who differed widely in outward
+characteristics, was marked by a peculiar fundamental similarity. They
+all entered the quiet precincts of the Crescent with the same air of
+subdued excitement; each moved softly and silently towards the darkened
+house, and, mounting the steps, knocked once upon the heavy door. And
+each in turn stood patient, while the slide was drawn back, and a voice
+from within<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> demanded the signal that granted admittance.</p>
+
+<p>This mysterious gathering of forces had continued for nearly an hour
+when a cab drew up sharply at the corner where Hellier Crescent abuts
+upon St. George's Terrace, and a lady descended from it. As she handed
+his fare to the cabman, her face and figure were plainly visible in the
+light of the street-lamps. The former was pale in coloring, delicately
+oval in shape, and illumined by a pair of large and unusually brilliant
+eyes; the latter was tall, graceful, and clad in black.</p>
+
+<p>Having dismissed her cab, the new-comer crossed St. George's Terrace
+with an appearance of haste, and entering Hellier Crescent, immediately
+mounted the steps of No. 8.</p>
+
+<p>The last member of this strange procession had disappeared into the
+house as she reached the door; but, acting with apparent familiarity,
+she lifted the knocker and let it fall once.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>For a moment there was no response; then, as in the case of the former
+visitors, the slide was drawn back and a beam of light came through the
+grating, to be immediately obscured by the shadowy suggestion of a face
+with two inquiring eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"The Word?" demanded a solemn voice.</p>
+
+<p>The new-comer lifted her head.</p>
+
+<p>"He shall be Power made absolute!" she responded in a low and slightly
+tremulous voice; and a moment later the door opened, and she stepped
+into the hall.</p>
+
+<p>The scene inside the house was curious in the extreme. If there were
+quiet and darkness outside, a brilliant light and a tense, contagious
+excitement reigned within. The large hall, lighted by tall lamps, was
+covered with a thick black carpet into which the feet sank noiselessly,
+and the walls and ceiling were draped in the same sombre tint; but at
+intervals of a few feet, columns of white marble, chiselled into curious
+shapes,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> gleamed upon the observer from shadowy niches.</p>
+
+<p>On ordinary occasions, there was a solemnity, a coldness, in this sombre
+vestibule; but to-night a strange electric activity seemed to have been
+breathed upon the atmosphere. Women with flushed faces and men with
+feverishly bright eyes hurried to and fro in an irrepressible, aimless
+agitation. A blending of dread and hysterical anticipation was stamped
+upon every face. People stopped one another with nervous, unstrung
+gesture and odd, disjointed sentences.</p>
+
+<p>As the last comer entered, she paused for a moment, uncertain and
+hesitating; but almost as she did so, a remarkable-looking and massively
+built man who was standing in the hall, disengaged himself from a group
+of people, and, coming directly towards her, took her hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Witcherley! At last!" he exclaimed, in a full, emotional voice. "I
+looked for you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> among the gathering and for a moment I almost feared&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"That I would fail?" Her voice was still tinged with agitation; the
+pupils of her large eyes were distended.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I did not mean that. But at such a moment we burn lest even one of
+the Elect be missing." He continued to hold her hand, looking into her
+face with his prominent dark eyes, from which flashed and glowed an
+excitement that spread over his whole heavy face.</p>
+
+<p>"The night of nights!" he exclaimed. "To have lived to witness it!" His
+face glowed with a sudden enthusiasm; and freeing her fingers, he lifted
+up his right hand. "'He shall walk into your midst&mdash;and sit above you as
+a King!'" he quoted, in a loud voice. Then remembering his companion, he
+lowered his tone.</p>
+
+<p>"Everything is in readiness," he added, more soberly. "The Precursor
+still unceasingly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> prophesies the Advent. Come with me into the Place.
+The Gathering is all but assembled." Laying his large hand upon her arm,
+he led her forward unresistingly through the groups of men and women,
+and onward down a long corridor to where a curtain hid an arched
+doorway.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment they paused outside this door, and the man&mdash;still laboring
+under some strange excitement&mdash;again raised his hand:</p>
+
+<p>"Come!" he cried. "And before we leave the Place, may the Hope of the
+Universe be fulfilled!" Lifting the curtain, he ushered her through the
+door.</p>
+
+<p>The room&mdash;or chapel&mdash;into which they stepped was large and lofty,
+covered on floor and walls with sections of marble alternately black and
+white; overhead swung a huge octagonal symbol in jewelled and polished
+metal; and at the end farthest from the door a haze of incense clouded
+what appeared to be an altar.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>A concourse of people filled every corner of this vast room; and from
+the crouched or upright figures rose a continuous, inaudible murmuring.</p>
+
+<p>Still guiding his companion, the massively built man forced a way
+between the closely packed figures. But, half-way up the room, the woman
+paused and glanced at him.</p>
+
+<p>"This will do," she whispered. "Not any nearer, please. Not any nearer."</p>
+
+<p>His only answer was to lay his hand upon her arm, and by a persistent
+pressure to draw her onward up the narrow aisle. Reaching the railed-in
+space about which the incense hung, he paused in his own turn and
+motioned her towards the foremost row of seats, from which the majority
+of the gathering seemed to hold aloof.</p>
+
+<p>With a quick, nervous gesture she deprecated the suggestion. "No! No!"
+she murmured. "Let me sit behind. Please let me sit behind."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But his fingers tightened impressively upon her arm. "No," he whispered,
+close to her ear. "No, I want you to be here. When the time arrives, I
+want the full light to shine upon you."</p>
+
+<p>After this she demurred no more, but moved obediently into the appointed
+seat, her companion placing himself beside her.</p>
+
+<p>In the first moments of agitation and nervousness, she had scarcely
+observed her surroundings; but now, as her perturbation partially
+subsided, she looked back at the rows of bowed or erect figures, and
+forward at the space about which the incense clung like a filmy veil. At
+a first glance this veil seemed almost too dense to penetrate; but as
+her sight grew accustomed to its drifting whiteness, she was able to
+discern the objects that lay behind.</p>
+
+<p>In place of the altar, usually prominent in every religious building,
+there was a wide semicircular space, within which stood a gold<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> chair
+raised upon a dais and a heavy lectern of symbolic design on which
+rested a white leather book, worn yellow at the edges. Over this book a
+man was poring, apparently unconscious of the active interest he evoked.
+He was short and thick-set, with a square jaw, a long upper lip, and
+keen eyes. Over a head of vividly red hair, he wore a round black silk
+cap, and his figure was enveloped in a flowing black gown.</p>
+
+<p>From time to time, as he read, he lifted one hand in rapt excitement,
+while his lips moved unceasingly in rapid, inaudible speech. At last,
+with a sudden dramatic gesture, he turned from the lectern and threw out
+both arms towards the high gold chair.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, empty throne! Empty world!" he cried. "Be filled!"</p>
+
+<p>There was something intense, something electric in the words. A startled
+cry broke from the people, already wrought to nervous tension. Some
+among them rose to their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> feet; some glanced fearfully behind them;
+others cowered upon the ground.</p>
+
+<p>And then&mdash;in what precise manner no one present ever remembered&mdash;the
+curtain at the doorway of the chapel was swung sharply back; and the
+tall, straight figure of a man clad all in white moved slowly up the
+aisle.</p>
+
+<p>He moved forward calmly and deliberately, his gaze fixed, his senses
+apparently unconscious of the many eyes and tongues from which
+frightened glances and frightened, awe-struck words escaped as he made
+his solitary, impressive progress.</p>
+
+<p>Reaching the railing, he paused and lifted one hand as if in benediction
+towards the red-haired man who still remained in solitary occupation of
+the Sanctuary.</p>
+
+<p>At the action, a gasp went up from the crowded chapel, and even those
+who still crouched upon the floor ventured to raise their heads and
+glance at the spot where the tall figure in the white serge robe stood
+motionless<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> and impressive. Then the whole concourse of devotees stirred
+in involuntary excitement as the red-haired man, with a cry of rapture,
+rushed forward and prostrated himself at the feet of the stranger.</p>
+
+<p>For a space, that to the watchers seemed interminable, the two central
+figures remained rigid; then at last the tall man stooped, and with
+great dignity raised the other.</p>
+
+<p>As he gained his feet, it was obvious that the smaller man was deeply
+agitated. His lips were trembling with some strange emotion, and it
+seemed that he could scarcely command his gestures. After a protracted
+moment of struggle, however, he appeared to regain his self-control; for
+with a slightly tremulous movement he stepped forward, laid his hands on
+the low railing and glanced at the assembled people.</p>
+
+<p>"Mystics!" he began. "Chosen Ones! Out of the Unseen I have come to
+prophesy to you&mdash;I, an obscure servant and follower<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> of the Mighty. For
+fifteen days have I spoken&mdash;telling you that which was at hand. And now,
+behold I am justified!" He paused and indicated the tall white figure
+still standing motionless, with face averted from the congregation.</p>
+
+<p>"What have I told you!" he continued, his voice rising. "Have I not
+quoted from the sacred Scitsym&mdash;which until this hour I have never been
+permitted to look upon? Have I not foretold the coming of this man&mdash;the
+garments he would wear&mdash;the Sign upon his person? And have I not done
+these things by a power outside myself?" Again his voice rose; and the
+congregation thrilled in response.</p>
+
+<p>"You have listened to me&mdash;you have marvelled&mdash;but in your Souls doubt
+has held sway. Now is the moment of justification! It is not meet that
+the Great One should plead for recognition; it is for you&mdash;the
+Watchers&mdash;to see and claim him. Master!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> he cried, suddenly. "Master,
+show them the Sign!"</p>
+
+<p>A hush like the hush of night fell upon the people; and in this curious
+and impressive lull the white-robed man turned slowly round facing the
+congregation.</p>
+
+<p>His appearance was arresting and remarkable, though it possessed nothing
+of beauty. He had a tall and powerful figure, a strong and determined
+face; his bare head was covered with close-cut black hair; his hard,
+firm lips were clean-shaven, and his gray eyes looked across the chapel
+with a peculiar sombre fire.</p>
+
+<p>He stood silent for a moment, surveying the faces clustered before him;
+then he raised his left hand.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+   <a id="gs04" name="gs04"></a>
+     <img src="images/gs04.jpg"  width="353" height="600"
+     style="border: thin solid;"
+     alt="ACROSS THE PROPHET'S BREAST, IN MARKS OF A CRUEL LACERATION, RAN THE SYMBOLIC OCTAGONAL FIGURE OF THE MYSTIC SECT"
+     title="ACROSS THE PROPHET'S BREAST, IN MARKS OF A CRUEL LACERATION, RAN THE SYMBOLIC OCTAGONAL FIGURE OF THE MYSTIC SECT" />
+</div>
+
+<p>"My People!" he began, in a deep, slow voice. "We live in an age when
+doubt roams through the world like a beast of prey. I ask not for the
+faith that accepts blindly; but in this most sacred Scitsym&mdash;" <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>he
+pointed to the white book upon the lectern&mdash;"it is written that, by a
+certain secret Sign, the Arch-Mystics will recognize Him for whom they
+have waited. I call upon the Arch-Mystics to declare whether or no I
+bear upon my person that secret Sign!" He paused for a moment; then with
+a grave, calm gesture he unfastened his robe where it crossed his breast
+and threw it open.</p>
+
+<p>There was a rustle of intense curiosity, as all involuntarily leaned
+forward; an audible gasp of awe and shrinking, as all instinctively drew
+back before the sight that confronted them. Across the Prophet's breast,
+in marks of a cruel laceration, ran the symbolic octagonal figure of the
+Mystic sect.</p>
+
+<p>He stood dignified and unmoved until the tremor of emotion had subsided.
+Then his glance travelled over the foremost row of seats.</p>
+
+<p>"Come forth!" he commanded, authoritatively. "Come forth and acknowledge
+me!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> His eyes moved slowly from seat to seat&mdash;pausing momentarily on
+the pale, absorbed face of the woman in black. But scarcely had his
+glance rested upon her than the heavily built man who sat beside her,
+rose agitatedly and stepped forward to the sanctuary. For a space he
+stood staring at the scarred skin from which the symbol of his creed
+stood forth as if miraculously branded; then he turned to the
+congregation, his prominent eyes burning, his heavy face working with
+emotion.</p>
+
+<p>"Brethren," he said, inarticulately. "Brethren, it is indeed the Sign!"</p>
+
+<p>But the Prophet remained motionless.</p>
+
+<p>"Where are the other five?" he asked, in a level voice.</p>
+
+<p>Almost simultaneously four men rose from the congregation and came
+forward. One was tall and gaunt, with a Slavonic type of face, wild
+eyes, and a long, fair beard; another was young&mdash;scarcely more than
+seven<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> and twenty&mdash;with the free carriage, fiery glance, and swarthy
+complexion of the nomadic races of southeastern Europe; the third was a
+small, frail man of fifty, with a nervous system painfully in advance of
+his physical strength; while the fourth was a true mystic&mdash;impassioned,
+enthusiastic, detached. One by one these men advanced, examined the
+scars, and turning to the people, confirmed the words of their fellow.
+Then, amid a tremulous hush, the last of the six&mdash;the Arch-Councillor
+himself&mdash;was led up the aisle.</p>
+
+<p>For an instant the glimmering of some new feeling crossed the Prophet's
+face, as his glance rested on the old man who slowly approached with
+feeble steps, bent back, and anxious, sightless eyes. But, as quickly as
+it had come, the expression passed, and he stepped forward for the old
+man's touch.</p>
+
+<p>With a quivering gesture the Arch-Councillor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> lifted his hand and
+nervously passed his fingers over the scars; then, drawing the Prophet
+down, he touched his face. For a long moment of suspense his fingers
+lingered over the features; then they fell again upon the scars. And an
+instant later he sank upon his knees.</p>
+
+<p>"It is indeed made manifest!" he cried, in a loud, unsteady voice. "He
+shall sit above you as upon a Throne!"</p>
+
+<p>The words were magical. The whole concourse of people swayed forward
+hysterically. Men pressed upward towards the railing; women wept.</p>
+
+<p>And through it all the Prophet stood unmoved. He stood like a rock
+against which the clamorous human sea beat wildly. With a quiet movement
+he drew his robe across his breast, hiding the unsightly scars, but
+otherwise he made no motion. At last the red-haired man who had first
+claimed him, stepped forward to his side.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Speak to them, Master!" he said.</p>
+
+<p>The words roused the Prophet. With a calm gesture he raised his head,
+his eyes confronting the mass of strained, excited faces lifted to his.</p>
+
+<p>"My People," he said again, in his deep voice. "What will you do with
+me?"</p>
+
+<p>The response was instant.</p>
+
+<p>"The Throne! The Throne!" The crowd surged forward in a wave, then
+receded as the tide recedes; and the old Arch-Councillor stepped feebly
+into the Sanctuary and extended his hands to the Prophet.</p>
+
+<p>It was a moment of breathless awe. The tall woman, who until that moment
+had remained seated, involuntarily rose to her feet.</p>
+
+<p>She saw the figure of the Prophet move grandly across the Sanctuary in
+the wake of the old blind man; she saw him halt for an infinitesimal
+space at the foot of the throne; she saw him calmly and decisively mount
+the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> steps of the dais and seat himself in the golden chair. Then,
+prompted by an overwhelming impulse, she yielded to the spirit of the
+moment and dropped to her knees.</p>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+     <img src="images/header.jpg" width="512" height="70"
+     alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+	<img class="plain" src="images/drop04.jpg"  width="74" height="75 "
+		alt="T"
+		title="T" />
+</span>
+hree hours later, when the curious rite of acknowledgment had been
+completed and the concourse of zealots had departed from Hellier
+Crescent, the first night in his new kingdom opened for the Prophet. As
+the clocks of Brompton were striking two, the six Arch-Mystics&mdash;each of
+whom possessed rooms in a remote portion of the house&mdash;lingeringly and
+fearfully bade him good-night, and left him alone with the Precursor in
+the apartments that for nearly fifty years had been kept swept and
+garnished in expectation of his advent.</p>
+
+<p>Apart from their suggestion of the mystical and fantastic, these rooms
+possessed an intrinsic interest of their own. And some consciousness of
+this interest appeared to be at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> work within the Prophet's mind; for
+scarcely had he and his companion been assured of privacy, than he rose
+from the massive ivory chair which had been apportioned to him and from
+which he had made his second and private justification of his claims;
+and very slowly and deliberately began a circuit of the chamber.</p>
+
+<p>With engrossed attention he passed from one to another of the rare and
+costly objects that formed the furniture of the place; while, from the
+ebony table in the centre of the room, his red-haired companion watched
+him with vigilant eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Still moving with unruffled deliberation, he completed his tour of the
+apartment; then a remarkable&mdash;a startling thing took place. He wheeled
+round, laid his hands heavily on the Precursor's shoulders, and looking
+closely into his face, broke into speech.</p>
+
+<p>"Well?" he demanded, intensely. "Well? Well? What have you to say?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>At first the red-haired man sat watching him, mute and motionless; then
+with a suddenness equal to his own, he released himself, leaned forward
+in his chair, and silently uncorked a gold flask that stood upon the
+table before him. Lifting it high, he poured some wine into two glass
+goblets, and without a word handed one to the white-robed Prophet, and
+himself picked up the other.</p>
+
+<p>"John," he said, deliberately, "you were magnificent! Let me give you a
+toast? Power! Power made Absolute!"</p>
+
+<p>With a grave gesture the Prophet extended his hand, and their glasses
+clinked.</p>
+
+<p>"Power made Absolute!" he responded, in a low, deep voice.</p>
+
+<p>In silence they drank the toast; but, as he replaced his glass upon the
+table, the Prophet shook off his gravity, and turned again to his
+companion.</p>
+
+<p>"Now!" he exclaimed. "Now! Out with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> it all! How much of this has been
+native adroitness, and how much unbelievable good-fortune? Out with it!
+I'm hungry and thirsty for the truth."</p>
+
+<p>For answer the Precursor slowly lifted the gold flask and replenished
+his own glass. "Truth in a golden flask! But, to throw a sop to your
+curiosity, it was a matter of native genius engineered by Providence. I
+don't mind admitting that when I stood on the doorstep of this house
+fifteen nights ago and knocked the mystic knock, I felt like a man
+embarking on a coffin-ship." He stopped to drain his glass.</p>
+
+<p>The Prophet took a step forward.</p>
+
+<p>"And then?" he said, eagerly. "Then?"</p>
+
+<p>The other waved his empty glass.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, there entered the native genius of Terence Dominick Devereaux!
+Under that tremendous escort I stormed the citadel&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>The Prophet smiled. "And the Mystic ears, I have no doubt."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>For a third time the Precursor filled his glass.</p>
+
+<p>"The tongue is mightier&mdash;and a good deal more portable&mdash;than either the
+pen or the sword, John," he said, sagely. "Paving your way with words
+has been an unrecognized work of art. But how about yourself? I have my
+own curiosity." He wheeled round in his seat and looked into his
+companion's face.</p>
+
+<p>The Prophet looked away.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I had my qualms, too!" he said, slowly. "Just for a moment the
+world seemed to tremble, when the old Arch-Councillor groped forward and
+put his hands over my face. It swept me off my feet&mdash;swept me back ten
+years. It was like a vision in a crystal&mdash;if such a thing could exist. I
+saw the whole past scene. The bare room&mdash;the old dead man&mdash;myself; the
+overwhelming wish to avenge my wrongs, and the sudden suggestion that
+turned the wish cold. I saw the long,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> bleak night in which I completed
+the colossal task of copying the Scitsym line for line; I saw the gray
+morning steal in across the room as I closed the book, returned it to
+its safe and replaced the key on my uncle's neck in preparation for the
+arrival of the Arch-Councillor. It all passed before my mind, and then
+in a flash was gone. I ceased to be John Henderson."</p>
+
+<p>The Precursor glanced quickly towards the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Avoid that name. Habits grow&mdash;and so do suspicions. Your probation has
+been too long and too hard to permit us to run risks. Now that you've
+stepped into your kingdom&mdash;" He made an expressive gesture.</p>
+
+<p>The Prophet laughed shortly, then suddenly turned grave again.</p>
+
+<p>"You are right!" he said. "Only a man with a light conscience can skate
+on thin ice. To return to our original subject, what about the inner
+workings of this odd game? It is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> so curious to have lived for years on
+theory, and suddenly to come face to face with practice. I tell you I'm
+starving for facts." He stepped forward quickly and dropped into a chair
+that faced his companion's.</p>
+
+<p>"Out with it all! To begin, who is the master-spirit? You know what I
+mean. The master-spirit in the true sense. Poor old blind Arian doesn't
+stand for much."</p>
+
+<p>The Precursor looked meditatively at his empty glass.</p>
+
+<p>"No," he said, thoughtfully. "You touch truth there! Michael Arian is
+the cipher; Bale-Corphew's the meaning. Bale-Corphew is an interesting
+man, John&mdash;I had almost said a dangerous man&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>The Prophet's lip curled slightly.</p>
+
+<p>"Dangerous!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; dangerous in a sense. In the sense that a personality always is
+dangerous. Among the six Arch-Mystics there is, to my thinking, only one
+<i>man</i>, and he interests<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> me. He interests me, does Horatio
+Bale-Corphew!"</p>
+
+<p>The Prophet leaned forward in his chair.</p>
+
+<p>"I think I catch your meaning," he said. "Something of the same idea
+occurred to me when he rose from his seat to-night. While we spied upon
+them in the last six months, he always struck me as curiously
+un-English, with that sleek exterior and those flashing eyes of his. But
+in the chapel to-night he was almost aggressively alien. When he touched
+my arm I could literally feel him bristle."</p>
+
+<p>The other nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"You've said it!" he cried. "Horatio bristles! His whole queer soul is
+in this business&mdash;every fibre of it. He attempts no division of
+allegiance&mdash;except, perhaps, in the matter of the heart&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>The Prophet glanced up and smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"The heart? Do my faithful Watchers permit themselves hearts? The
+Scitsym makes no provision for such frail organs."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The Precursor laughed again.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, we Elect are by no means free from little saving weaknesses! That's
+where we become dramatic. You can't have effect without contrast.
+Horatio, for instance, is instinctively dramatic."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Oh yes! I know what I'm saying. I've studied them all. More than
+once, when my Soul has been communing with your August Spirit, I have
+watched Horatio's dramatic contrast from the corner of my eyes."</p>
+
+<p>Again the Prophet smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"The contrast frequents the chapel then?"</p>
+
+<p>"Frequents? Undoubtedly. Horatio has literally swept her into the fold.
+She was here to-night to bend the knee to you."</p>
+
+<p>A look of recollection crossed the Prophet's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"To-night?" he said. "Not the woman who sat beside him? The woman with
+the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> big eyes? She and Bale-Corphew! The idea is absurd!"</p>
+
+<p>"Undeniable, nevertheless. I have deduced the story. The lady is a
+widow&mdash;no relations&mdash;too much freedom&mdash;vague aspirations after the
+ideal. She has sounded society and found it too shallow; sounded
+philosophy and found it too deep; and upon her horizon of desires and
+disappointments has loomed the colossal presence of
+Bale-Corphew&mdash;enthusiast, mystic, leader of a fascinatingly unorthodox
+sect. What is the result? The lady&mdash;too feminine to be truly modern, too
+modern to be wholly womanly&mdash;is viewing life through new glasses, and by
+their medium seeing Horatio invested with a halo otherwise invisible."</p>
+
+<p>The Prophet remained quiet and silent; then he rose slowly from his seat
+and walked round the table. "Devereaux," he said, laconically, "only the
+Prophet is going to wear a halo here."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The Precursor's sharply marked, expressive eyebrows went up in quick
+comment.</p>
+
+<p>"Can even a latter-day Prophet afford autocracy?"</p>
+
+<p>For a space the Prophet made no response; then he took a step forward
+and laid his hand impressively on his friend's shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"Devereaux," he said, in a new voice&mdash;a voice that unconsciously held
+something of the command that had marked it in the chapel&mdash;"the Prophet
+of the Mystics has come to rule. He has not come to follow the laws that
+others&mdash;that men like Bale-Corphew&mdash;have seen fit to make. He has come
+to be a law unto himself!"</p>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+     <img src="images/header.jpg" width="512" height="70"
+     alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2>
+
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+	<img class="plain" src="images/drop05.jpg"  width="74" height="75"
+		alt="I"
+		title="I" />
+</span>
+t is astonishing in how short a space of time a man of vigorous
+character can make his personality felt. On the night of his mysterious
+advent, the Prophet had found his people in a condition of mental
+chaos&mdash;as liable to repudiate as to accept the seeker for their
+confidence; but before one month had passed he had, by domination of
+will, so moulded this neurotic mass of humanity that his own position
+had gradually and insensibly merged from suppliant into that of
+autocrat. Without a murmur of doubt or dissension the Mystics had
+proclaimed him their king.</p>
+
+<p>On the last day of the thirty he sat alone in his room&mdash;the room in
+which he and the red-haired Precursor had held their private<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> council on
+the night of his coming. The heavy purple curtains that shielded the
+windows were partly drawn, throwing a subdued, almost a devotional,
+light over the wide, imposing apartment and across the ebony table, on
+which rested the sacred Scitsym, surrounded by an array of smaller and
+more ancient books, several rolls of parchment, a number of quill pens,
+and a dish of ink. It was at this table that the Prophet sat; he wore
+the monastic white robe that he always affected in presence of his
+people, his arms were folded, and his face looked calm and grave, as
+though he appreciated the moment's solitude.</p>
+
+<p>The solitude, however, was not destined to endure. The soft booming of a
+gong presently roused him to attention, and a moment later the door of
+the apartment opened and an ascetic-looking man, whose duty and
+privilege it was to wait upon him, entered deferentially.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He stood for a moment in an attitude of profound abasement; then he
+stepped forward and stood beside the table.</p>
+
+<p>"Master," he said, in a low voice. "The newest among us would speak with
+you!"</p>
+
+<p>The Prophet raised his head and a gleam of interest crossed his eyes;
+but almost immediately he subdued the look.</p>
+
+<p>"I am willing," he replied, unemotionally, in the usual formula. Then he
+glanced at his attendant. "After this, the audiences for the day are
+over," he added.</p>
+
+<p>The man bowed, and with awe-struck deference moved silently from the
+room, almost immediately reappearing, to usher in the devotee, and with
+the same conscious air of mystery, to retire, closing the heavy door.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment the new-comer stood just inside the threshold. As on the
+night of the Prophet's coming, she wore a long, black dress that
+accentuated her height and grace, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> brought into prominence the clear
+pallor of her skin and the remarkable luminous brilliance of her eyes. A
+struggle between superstitious dread and human curiosity was distinctly
+visible in her expression as she stood uncertain of her position,
+doubtful as to her first move.</p>
+
+<p>The Prophet glanced at her, and the shadow of a smile touched his lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Have no fear," he said. "Come forward!"</p>
+
+<p>The strong, steady voice gave her courage, and with slightly agitated
+haste she stepped towards the table.</p>
+
+<p>The Prophet gravely motioned her to a seat and assumed an attitude of
+attention. Upon each of the thirty mornings he had sat in this same
+position in his ivory chair, while, one after another, the members of
+the sect had claimed audience with him. Morning after morning he had
+exhibited the same grave, aloof interest&mdash;his hands clasped,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> his eyes
+upon the Scitsym&mdash;while the fearful, the fanatical, the hysterical had
+poured forth their tales of struggle or aspiration. But now, on this
+last morning, he was conscious of a new suggestion, a new impression in
+what had grown to be routine. This last aspirant for spiritual light was
+neither fanatical nor hysterical, was scarcely even imbued with fear.
+Something within his brain responded to the idea, to the reassuring
+human curiosity that gleamed in her eyes. He found himself waiting for
+her first words with an impatience that no other member of the
+congregation had aroused.</p>
+
+<p>But the wait was long&mdash;disconcertingly long. The aspirant glanced
+uncertainly about the room, as if unwilling or unable to break into
+speech; then at last she raised her head, and, with an effort, met the
+Prophet's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm terribly nervous!" she said, in an irresistibly feminine voice.</p>
+
+<p>The effect upon her hearer was instantaneous.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> The distant and spiritual
+aloofness, so easy to assume in the presence of the credulous, became
+suddenly a matter of impossibility. With a quiet dignity that had more
+of masculine protectiveness than of mystical inspiration he turned to
+her afresh.</p>
+
+<p>"Have no fear!" he answered, gently. "My only desire is to help you.
+Tell me everything that is in your mind."</p>
+
+<p>She leaned forward quickly. "You&mdash;you are most kind&mdash;" she began. Then
+again she halted.</p>
+
+<p>But he took no notice of her embarrassment.</p>
+
+<p>"Why have you never come before?" he asked. "Had you no doubts to be set
+at rest?" He spoke so quietly that her nervousness forsook her, and with
+a swift impulse she glanced up at him.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I think I was afraid," she said, candidly. "You see, I am not
+exactly one of the others&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"You did not quite believe that the One<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> you had waited for had really
+come?" His voice was low and tinged with some inscrutable meaning.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh no! No; it was not that. Before you came, I confess I was sceptical;
+I confess I did not believe that any one would come, that there was any
+truth&mdash;any real meaning&mdash;in the sect. But then&mdash;when you did come&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>The Prophet lifted his head.</p>
+
+<p>"When I did come?" he asked, sharply.</p>
+
+<p>"The whole thing was different&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"The whole thing was different?" he repeated, slowly and meditatively.
+By a curious process of suggestion and recollection, something of his
+own experiences in the realm of mental upheaval rose with her words. He
+studied the pale face and brilliant eyes with a fresh and more intimate
+interest.</p>
+
+<p>"The whole thing was different?" he said once more, in his slow, deep
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>The warm color flooded her face. "Yes,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> she admitted. "Yes. You seemed
+the one real person&mdash;the one sane thing in the whole ceremony. I felt&mdash;I
+knew that you were&mdash;strong." She paused, alarmed at her own timidity;
+and again their eyes met.</p>
+
+<p>"And why have you never come to me before?" He had no particular meaning
+in the question; he was only conscious of an inexplicable wish to
+prolong the interview.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I don't know&mdash;I scarcely know." Again she spoke quickly and
+nervously. "I have come every night to hear you speak&mdash;I have loved to
+hear you speak. But&mdash;but to be alone with you&mdash;" She paused,
+expressively. "It is all so strange&mdash;so extraordinary. It doesn't seem
+to belong to the present day&mdash;" She looked up at him in appealing
+perplexity.</p>
+
+<p>"And why did you come now?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why? Oh, because&mdash;because I could not stay away."</p>
+
+<p>For the first time the Prophet was conscious<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> of a tremor of
+discomfiture; for the first time the spectacle of his fraud, as seen
+from a point of view other than his own, touched him unpleasantly. He
+moved slightly in his massive chair.</p>
+
+<p>"In this life," he said, with a sudden, almost incontinent assumption of
+his Prophetic manner, "we must be ever careful to distinguish the Wine
+from the Vessel that contains it. I endeavor, with all the Power I am
+possessed of, to impress upon my People that I have come, not to <i>be</i>
+the Way, but to <i>show</i> the Way! To teach you all that what you seek in
+me, is in each one of you. Every man is his own Prophet, if he but knew
+it!" As he spoke he turned his eyes upon the Scitsym, and the hard,
+inscrutable look that so dominated his followers descended upon his
+face. As he reached the last words, he glanced again at his companion,
+but as his eyes rested on her face he paused disconcerted. She was
+gazing at him with a candid, spontaneous<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> admiration infinitely more
+human and infinitely more irresistible than the neurotic adoration that
+was daily lavished on him. With an odd, inexplicable sense of guilt, he
+rose quickly from his seat.</p>
+
+<p>"Do not forget&mdash;do not allow yourself to forget that this is my
+teaching," he said. "That you have each within yourselves the thing you
+demand in me. Look for it within yourselves! Rely upon yourselves!"</p>
+
+<p>As he ceased, she also rose. She was pale, and trembled slightly.</p>
+
+<p>"But if one cannot follow that teaching?" she asked. "If one longs to
+rely upon some one else? If one cannot rely upon one's self?"</p>
+
+<p>The Prophet made no answer. He stood with one hand resting on the table,
+his gaze fixed upon the book.</p>
+
+<p>Emboldened by his silence, she approached him by a step.</p>
+
+<p>"I think I could believe&mdash;" she murmured. "I think I could
+believe&mdash;anything, if I might<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> learn it from you." She paused
+pleadingly; then, as he still stood unresponsive, the color rushed again
+into her face.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I have been presumptuous," she said. "I have offended you."</p>
+
+<p>Something in her tone, in her charming unaffected humility stung him.
+For the first time in his career as Prophet, the blood surged hotly and
+painfully into his face.</p>
+
+<p>"Do not say that!" he began, impulsively; then he checked himself. "I am
+here to teach my People," he added. "All my People&mdash;without exception."</p>
+
+<p>For one moment she studied his face half doubtfully; then at last her
+own emotions conquered her doubt.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I may come again?"</p>
+
+<p>He did not reply at once; and when at last his words did come, his voice
+was unusually irresolute and low.</p>
+
+<p>"You may come&mdash;at any time," he said, without meeting her eyes.</p>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+     <img src="images/header.jpg" width="512" height="70"
+     alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+	<img class="plain" src="images/drop06.jpg"  width="74" height="75"
+		alt="S"
+		title="S" />
+</span>
+o it came about that the serpent of misgiving entered into the
+Prophet's paradise. With Enid Witcherley's words, the realization of his
+true position had been unpleasantly suggested to him, and the grain of
+doubt had been scattered over the banquet he had set himself to enjoy.
+It was one thing to fool men who yearned to be fooled&mdash;even to fool
+women whose peculiarities set them apart from their sex; but it was
+indisputably another matter to dupe a young and confiding girl, who came
+with all the fascination of modern doubt, counterbalanced by the charm
+of feminine credulity.</p>
+
+<p>Long after she left him, he had paced up and down the room in perplexity
+of spirit, until at last, with a sudden contempt for his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> own weakness,
+he had turned to where the white binding of the Scitsym caught the
+subdued light. The sight of the book had nerved him, as it never failed
+to do; but for all his regained firmness, the sense of uneasy shame had
+remained with him during the day; and that night, when he addressed his
+people, he had instinctively guarded his glance from resting on the
+seats that fronted the Sanctuary.</p>
+
+<p>But now that first interview was past by three weeks, and Enid's daily
+visits to the great room where he gave audience to the congregation had
+become one of the recognized events of the twenty-four hours. The sense
+of shame returned periodically; but on each renewal of the feeling he
+salved his conscience more and more successfully with the assurance that
+to her, as to himself, the Mystics were in reality nothing but the
+products of a neurotic age&mdash;mere hysterical dabblers in the truths of
+the universe. She was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> too delicately feminine, he told himself with
+growing conviction, too intelligent and self-controlled, to be more than
+temporarily attracted to any such exotic creed. She might toy with it
+for a while, but the day must inevitably dawn when common-sense and the
+need of surer things would send her back into the broad channel of
+simple, satisfying Christianity. For a space this unnatural state of
+things would last; for a space their curious companionship would
+continue&mdash;their long, intimate talks would make life something new and
+wonderful; then&mdash;But there, for some unexplained reason, speculation
+invariably stopped.</p>
+
+<p>So things stood on the fiftieth morning after her first coming. The
+stream of suppliants for his favor was all but exhausted, and he awaited
+to give the last audience of the day.</p>
+
+<p>After the moment of quiet and solitude that always separated the
+interviews, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> sonorous gong announced the last visitor; the silent,
+ascetic attendant threw open the door and Enid entered.</p>
+
+<p>This time she displayed none of the hesitancy that had marked her early
+manner. She came towards the table with quick, assured steps, her face
+bright with anticipation.</p>
+
+<p>As she approached, the Prophet rose. It was remarkable that he no longer
+retained his sitting position when she entered the room, as was his
+custom with the other members of the sect. Involuntarily and almost
+unconsciously he extended to her the ordinary courtesies that man
+instinctively offers to woman.</p>
+
+<p>As she reached the table, she glanced up at him, and something of the
+pleasure died out of her face.</p>
+
+<p>"You look tired," she said, softly.</p>
+
+<p>He smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"Does that disappoint you?"</p>
+
+<p>His tone confused her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Oh no! No!" Then she colored slightly and glanced at him again. "Why do
+you ask?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because it is the way of humanity to refuse any common weakness to its
+leaders&mdash;spiritual or temporal."</p>
+
+<p>Again a wave of color crossed her skin. "But surely&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Surely what?"</p>
+
+<p>She glanced away; then, seeming to gather up her courage, she looked
+back at him.</p>
+
+<p>"I mean," she said, slowly, "that some people are so strong that they
+may be allowed to have anything&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Even weaknesses&mdash;" Once more he smiled. It was significant how,
+gradually and indisputably, the tone of teacher had dropped out of his
+conversation. Neither could have told the date on which the change had
+occurred&mdash;perhaps neither was conscious that it had even taken place.
+But the fact remained that, with her, he no longer felt compelled to
+hold aloof; that, with her, he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> had discarded the allegorical manner of
+speech, and had begun to show himself as he naturally was.</p>
+
+<p>"Even weaknesses?" he said again, as she made no attempt to answer.</p>
+
+<p>At the words her eyes once more met his.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she said, with new resolution&mdash;"yes, even weaknesses. I often
+think that it is because you are so&mdash;so human that you hold us as you
+do. It seems right that a Prophet should belong to the people he has
+come to teach. All the prophets of the world have essentially belonged
+to their own times. If you had sat upon the Throne all day and communed
+with your Soul, I should have been very much afraid of you; but I should
+never have believed in you as I do now, when you talk to me and advise
+me and help me like&mdash;like a friend." Her voice trembled slightly.</p>
+
+<p>A peculiar expression crossed the Prophet's face.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"So I seem a&mdash;friend?"</p>
+
+<p>"More than a friend. I can never tell you what you have been to me&mdash;what
+you have done for me. I have never been so happy&mdash;so satisfied in my
+life, as in these last three weeks. Every disappointment and
+dissatisfaction seems to have slipped away; I seem to have been living
+in some calm, beautiful, restful atmosphere&mdash;" She paused, her face as
+well as her voice tinged with a subtle excitement.</p>
+
+<p>"It may be very selfish, but I wish that these days could go on forever.
+I know that, for you, they are only a probation; that you must crave for
+the moment when, having taught us everything, you will go out into the
+world and teach the Unbelievers. I know all that, and I know it is only
+right, but&mdash;but I hate to think of it!" A sudden break came in her
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>"You hate to think that all this must end?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Again their eyes met; but, as though the contact of glances embarrassed
+her, Enid looked away.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I do hate it. Do you despise me for being so selfish&mdash;so jealous
+of those other people who will take our place?"</p>
+
+<p>For a moment the Prophet made no reply. In the dim light of the room,
+the muscles of his hard face looked set; his strong hands were clasped.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you despise me?" she asked again.</p>
+
+<p>"It is not for me to judge any one&mdash;you least of all," he answered,
+without looking at her.</p>
+
+<p>At the subdued tone, the unexpected words, she turned to him
+apprehensively.</p>
+
+<p>"You are angry with me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed, no."</p>
+
+<p>"Then what is it? What have I done&mdash;or said?"</p>
+
+<p>He remained silent.</p>
+
+<p>In her sudden distress she leaned forward<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> in her chair, looking into
+his face with new solicitude.</p>
+
+<p>"I know&mdash;I feel that I have displeased you. Won't you tell me what I
+have done?"</p>
+
+<p>As she put the question, she laid one gloved hand upon the table; and
+though the Prophet's eyes were fixed upon the Scitsym, he was conscious
+in every fibre of the appeal the unstudied gesture made&mdash;as he was
+poignantly conscious of the clear eyes, the soft dark hair, the
+questioning upturned face.</p>
+
+<p>For an interminable time the silence remained unbroken; at last, with a
+little sound of fresh distress, Enid bent still nearer.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I understand!" she exclaimed. "I understand! You think I have taken
+advantage of your goodness. You think I have imagined that, because you
+are kind and patient and tolerant, I might look upon you as&mdash;as a man."
+As she said the word she paused, frightened by her own timidity.</p>
+
+<p>But as suddenly the Prophet wheeled round<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> and laid his fingers over
+hers. The pressure of his hand was like steel, the expression of his
+face was altered and disturbed.</p>
+
+<p>"If you only knew&mdash;" he said, sharply&mdash;"if you only knew how I have
+longed to hear you say just that one word <i>man</i>!" He paused almost
+triumphantly, his eyes searching her frightened face, his fingers
+gripping hers.</p>
+
+<p>For an instant she sat petrified and fascinated; then a faint sound of
+alarm escaped her, and she turned towards the door.</p>
+
+<p>Without the formality of the announcing gong, two men had entered the
+room, and stood silent spectators of the tableau. One was Devereaux, the
+Precursor; the other was Horatio Bale-Corphew.</p>
+
+<p>For one embarrassed moment all four looked at each other; then the
+Precursor hastened to save the situation. He made a long, profound
+obeisance, and stepped deferentially to the table.</p>
+
+<p>"Your pardon, Master!" he murmured.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> "We knew not that the immutable
+Soul was speaking from within you, calling one among us towards the
+Light!" He glanced quickly over his shoulder to where the massive form
+and agitated face of Bale-Corphew was framed in the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>At his peremptory look the Arch-Mystic seemed to gather himself
+together. Stepping forward, he made a slightly tardy reverence.</p>
+
+<p>"Master," he said, huskily, "what the Precursor tells you is the truth.
+Seeing the threshold unguarded, we concluded that the audiences for the
+day were over." His prominent brown eyes were filled with conflicting
+expressions as he turned them on the Prophet.</p>
+
+<p>But the Prophet remained unmoved. The hard look had returned to his
+face, the stern rigidity to his figure. Very slowly he released the hand
+that still trembled under his own.</p>
+
+<p>"The time of the Prophet belongs to his People," he said, with dignity.
+"He holds audience whenever, wherever, and <i>however</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> it is expedient.
+Speak, my son! In what can I serve you?"</p>
+
+<p>Bale-Corphew looked at him in silence. Whatever he had come to say
+appeared to have escaped his mind. For a while inaction reigned in the
+room; then, with a pale face and nervous manner, Enid rose, bowed to the
+Prophet, and moved noiselessly to the door.</p>
+
+<p>All three watched her until she had disappeared; then Bale-Corphew found
+voice again.</p>
+
+<p>"Master," he murmured, hurriedly, "with your permission, I also would
+leave the Presence;" and with a perturbed gesture, he too bowed and
+passed out of the room.</p>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+     <img src="images/header.jpg" width="512" height="70"
+     alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+	<img class="plain" src="images/drop07.jpg"  width="74" height="75"
+		alt="O"
+		title="O" />
+</span>
+n a crisp, cold afternoon, one week after her interview with the
+Prophet, Enid Witcherley sat in the drawing-room of her London flat. The
+early portion of the day had been pleasantly warmed and brightened by
+the pale March sunshine; but at three o'clock a searching wind had begun
+to blow across the city from the east; and now, as the small gold clock
+on her bureau chimed the hour of five, she rose from the couch where she
+had been sitting, and, crossing the room with a little shiver, drew a
+chair to the fire and pressed the electric bell.</p>
+
+<p>As the maid appeared, in answer to her summons, she gave her order
+without looking round.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Tea, Norris!" she said, in an unusually curt and laconic voice.</p>
+
+<p>For a considerable time after the maid's departure she sat motionless,
+her hands stretched out towards the blazing logs, her large eyes
+absently watching the fire-light on her many and beautiful rings. When
+the woman reappeared, and, noiselessly arranging the tea-table, moved it
+to her side, she scarcely glanced up; and to the most superficial
+observer it would have been patent that her own thoughts and
+speculations fully absorbed her mind.</p>
+
+<p>She retained her contemplative attitude after the servant had withdrawn
+for the second time, and it is doubtful how long she would have remained
+sunk in apparent lethargy had not the unexpected sound of the hall-door
+bell caused her to start into an upright position with a little
+exclamation of surprise and impatience.</p>
+
+<p>As she sat listening with nervous intentness,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> the door opened, and once
+more Norris appeared. After a second's hesitation she crossed to her
+mistress.</p>
+
+<p>"There's a gentleman at the door, ma'am," she said, deprecatingly.</p>
+
+<p>Enid looked up, a frown still darkening her forehead.</p>
+
+<p>"I told you I was not at home."</p>
+
+<p>"I know, ma'am, but&mdash;" Norris hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>"But what? I told you I was not to be disturbed. I <i>won't</i> be
+disturbed." With a gesture plainly indicative of high-strung nerves, she
+turned to the table and poured herself out a cup of tea.</p>
+
+<p>The maid glanced behind her towards the door. "But the gentleman won't
+go, ma'am&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Won't go!" In her surprise Enid laid down the cup she had been about to
+raise to her lips. "Who is he?" she demanded.</p>
+
+<p>Norris looked down. "I don't know, ma'am. I told him you were not at
+home,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> but he won't go. He's the sort of gentleman who won't take no for
+an answer."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't understand you. Who is he? What is he like?" Unconsciously and
+involuntarily Enid's tone quickened. Something in the woman's
+words&mdash;something undefined and yet suggestive&mdash;stirred and agitated her.</p>
+
+<p>Norris seemed to choose her words. "Well, ma'am," she answered, slowly,
+"he's very tall&mdash;and not like any other gentleman that comes here. I
+can't rightly explain it, miss, he seems used to having his own way&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>As she halted, uncertain how to choose her words, Enid rose nervously.
+She could not have defined her emotions, but some feeling at once vague
+and portentous was working in her mind.</p>
+
+<p>"Did he give no name?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, ma'am. I was to say that he was some one that must be seen. He'd
+give no name."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>For a further instant Enid was silent, conscious of nothing but her own
+unsteady pulses; then suddenly she turned almost angrily upon the
+servant.</p>
+
+<p>"Show him in!" she cried. "Show him in at once! Don't keep him standing
+at the door."</p>
+
+<p>In some confusion Norris turned and walked across the room. At the
+doorway she paused and looked back.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you have the lights on, ma'am?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. No; the fire makes light enough. I like twilight and a fire. Don't
+stand waiting!"</p>
+
+<p>The woman departed; and for a space that seemed to her interminable,
+Enid stood beside the fireplace, motionless with hope, dread, and an
+almost uncontrollable nervousness. At last, as in a dream, she saw the
+door open and the tall, characteristic figure of the Prophet move into
+the room.</p>
+
+<p>She was vaguely aware that he halted for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> a moment, as if undecided as
+to his action, while Norris retired, softly closing the door. Then, with
+a sudden leap of the heart, she was conscious that he was coming towards
+her across the shadowed room.</p>
+
+<p>He moved straight forward until he was close beside her; and, with one
+of his decisive, imperious gestures, he put out both hands and caught
+hers.</p>
+
+<p>"It was a case of Mohammed and the mountain!" he said, in his grave
+voice. "You wouldn't come to me; I <i>had</i> to come to you."</p>
+
+<p>No sound escaped her. She stood before him mutely, her face paling and
+flushing, her hands fluttering in his.</p>
+
+<p>There was a slight pause; and again he bent towards her.</p>
+
+<p>"Why have you stayed away?"</p>
+
+<p>She hesitated for a moment, spellbound by her emotion; then, making a
+sudden effort, she looked up. "I&mdash;I was afraid." Her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> voice was so low
+and shaken that the words were a mere whisper.</p>
+
+<p>"Afraid? Afraid of what?"</p>
+
+<p>She made no answer.</p>
+
+<p>"Of what? Of Bale-Corphew?" He gave a slight, sarcastic laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"No!" She looked up sharply. "Oh no!"</p>
+
+<p>"Then of what? Of me?" His voice suddenly sank, and the pressure of his
+fingers tightened.</p>
+
+<p>"No! Oh, I don't know! I don't know!" With a tremulous gesture she tried
+to withdraw her hands.</p>
+
+<p>At the movement, he suddenly drew her towards him. "Tell me!" he said.
+"I want to know. I must know!"</p>
+
+<p>For the first time since he had entered the room, her glance rested
+fully on his face. The light was uncertain, but as her gaze concentrated
+itself, a new look&mdash;a look of wonder and alarm&mdash;sprang across her eyes.
+In the seven days since they had spoken together, a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> change had fallen
+on him. Some alteration she could not define had grown into his
+expression; the cold mastery of himself and others was still visible;
+but a new emotion had insensibly been created&mdash;something powerful and
+even dominant&mdash;for which she could find no name. With a sharp,
+instinctive alarm, her lips parted.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" she said, apprehensively. "Why are you here? The time has
+not come for you to go out into the world?"</p>
+
+<p>A faintly ironic smile flitted across his lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Surely, if one is a Prophet, one can alter even prophecies."</p>
+
+<p>He said the words deliberately, looking down into her face.</p>
+
+<p>The tone, the intentional flippancy of the words, came to her with a
+shock. It was as if, by considered action, he had set about jeopardizing
+his own dignity. A chill of undefined apprehension blew across her mind
+like a cold wind.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I don't understand," she stammered. "How did you get here? How did
+you get away?"</p>
+
+<p>Again his keen eyes searched hers.</p>
+
+<p>"As for getting away," he said, slowly, "when a Prophet has a Precursor,
+he should be able to arrange these things. Five o'clock is a dull hour
+at Hellier Crescent. The Arch-Mystics are perusing the Scitsym; the
+Precursor is guarding the sacred threshold of the Prophet; the Prophet
+is&mdash;presumably&mdash;communing with his Soul. The routine of this evening
+differs in no way from the routine of any other evening&mdash;except that the
+Precursor is rather more than usually vigilant in his watch." Again the
+forced flippancy was apparent; and to Enid, staring at him with wide,
+perplexed eyes, there was something inexplicable and alarming in this
+new and unfamiliar attitude. With a tremor of foreboding, her glance
+travelled over his face.</p>
+
+<p>"Has anything happened?" she asked.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> "Have the People done wrong? Have
+you&mdash;have you been called elsewhere?" At the last dread possibility her
+voice faltered.</p>
+
+<p>But the Prophet stood cold and almost rigid. At last, by an immense
+effort, he seemed to gather himself together for some tremendous end.</p>
+
+<p>"Enid," he said, gravely, "I don't know how much you know of life, but I
+presume you know very little. I presume that&mdash;and shall act on the
+presumption. I shall not expect&mdash;even ask&mdash;any leniency of you.</p>
+
+<p>"I came here this evening to tell you something that will alter your
+opinion of me so effectually that nothing hereafter can reinstate me in
+your mind." He spoke slowly and deliberately, without tremor or falter.
+Whatever of struggle lay behind his words, it lay with the past. It was
+evident as he stood there in the pretty, luxurious room, that he
+possessed a purpose, and that he held to it without thought of a
+retrograde step.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I have come to make a confession," he said, quietly. "Not because I
+believe in the habit of unburdening one's conscience, but because there
+is something you have a right to know&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;? A right to know?" Her lips paled.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. A right to know." With a sudden access of feeling he dropped her
+hands and turned towards the window, where the last glimmer of the
+wintry twilight showed through the soft silk curtains.</p>
+
+<p>"I am putting myself in your hands," he said, steadily. "I am
+jeopardizing myself utterly by what I am going to say; but it seems to
+me the only way by which I can make&mdash;well, can patch up some poor
+amends&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I may be presumptuous, but I believe&mdash;I think&mdash;that I have stood for
+something in your eyes." He turned and looked at her. But in the mingled
+dusk and firelight only the pale outline of her face was visible.</p>
+
+<p>"Enid!" he cried, with sudden resolution,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> "it must be faced. It must be
+said. I'm not what you think me. I'm a fraud&mdash;a lie&mdash;an impostor. No
+more a Prophet&mdash;no more inspired than you&mdash;or Bale-Corphew!" He stopped
+abruptly and drew a slow, deep breath.</p>
+
+<p>The pause that followed was long and strained. In the grip of strong
+emotions, each stood rigid, striving vainly to read the other's face. At
+last, goaded by the silence, he spoke again.</p>
+
+<p>"You have done this!" he cried. "You have compelled me to tell you! I
+came to these people; I duped them&mdash;and gloried in duping them. I
+despised them, understood them, traded on them without a scruple. Then
+you came. You came&mdash;and the scheme was shattered. The whole thing, that
+had bubbled and sparkled, became suddenly like flat champagne. That is a
+common simile, but it is descriptive. The acting of an actor depends
+upon his audience. While my audience<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> was composed of fools, I fooled
+them; but when you came&mdash;you with your scepticism, your curiosity, your
+feminine dependency&mdash;I lost my cue. I became conscious of the footlights
+and the make-up." Again he paused; and again he endeavored to read her
+face. His manner was still restrained, but below his calm were the
+stirrings of a deep agitation. There was tense anxiety in the set of his
+lips, an inordinate anticipation in the keenness of his eyes. For a
+space he stood waiting; then, as she made no effort towards response, he
+stepped to her side.</p>
+
+<p>"Say something!" he exclaimed. "Speak to me! I am waiting for you to
+speak."</p>
+
+<p>With a low, frightened murmur she drew back, extending her hands, as if
+to ward him off.</p>
+
+<p>The sound and the movement stung him to action. With a speed that might
+have been construed into fear, he came still nearer.</p>
+
+<p>"Enid!" he said. "Enid!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But again she retreated involuntarily.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, why did you do it?" she exclaimed, suddenly, in a faint, shaken
+voice. "Oh, why did you do it? Why did you do it?"</p>
+
+<p>For an instant her tone and her manner daunted him; then he straightened
+his body and raised his head.</p>
+
+<p>"I did it for what is reckoned the most sordid motive in the world," he
+said, in a level voice. "I did it for money!"</p>
+
+<p>"For money?" With a scared movement she turned upon him, and for the
+first time since he had made his revelation, he saw her pale, alarmed,
+incredulous face in the full light of the fire.</p>
+
+<p>"I was wronged!" he said, sharply. "These people had defrauded me. I
+wanted what was justly mine."</p>
+
+<p>"Wanted?" The word formed itself almost inarticulately.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; wanted. Wanted with all my might. I have worked, schemed, suffered
+for this in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> ways you could never imagine. I thought myself invincible.
+I believed that if the devil himself stood in my way it would not deter
+me. And now you&mdash;a frail girl&mdash;have wrecked the scheme!" He paused
+again, leaning towards her in sudden unconscious appeal for
+comprehension.</p>
+
+<p>"I won't say it hasn't been a struggle to come to you like this&mdash;to make
+my confession. It has. My conscience and I have been struggling night
+and day. I have held out to the last. It was only to-day&mdash;this very
+day&mdash;when I woke to face the crisis of my plans, that I knew I was
+beaten&mdash;knew the fight was over.</p>
+
+<p>"And do you understand why this has happened? Do you know why I am going
+away as empty-handed as I came? It is because I have seen you&mdash;because I
+love you&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He put out his hands. But as his fingers touched her, she thrust him
+away, freeing herself with fierce resentment.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Don't! don't! don't!" she cried. "You call yourself an impostor&mdash;You
+are worse than that. Much worse. You are a thief!"</p>
+
+<p>He stepped back as though she had struck him, and his hands dropped to
+his sides.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, you are a thief!" she said again, hysterically; "a thief!"</p>
+
+<p>The repetition of the word goaded him.</p>
+
+<p>"Wait! Let me defend myself!"</p>
+
+<p>But with a broken sound of protest she flung her hands over her ears.</p>
+
+<p>"No! no! no!" she cried, vehemently. "There is no defence to make. There
+is no defence. You may leave the money of the sect, but you have stolen
+things that can never be replaced. Faith&mdash;hopes&mdash;ideals&mdash;" Her voice
+failed her.</p>
+
+<p>"Mistaken faith&mdash;mistaken ideals&mdash;" He caught her wrists, drawing her
+hands downward.</p>
+
+<p>But again she freed herself and confronted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> him with blazing eyes and a
+face marred by tears and emotion.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing is mistaken that lifts one up&mdash;that helps one to live. Oh, you
+don't knew what you have done! You don't know! I thought you so
+noble&mdash;so great&mdash;and now&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Now I am condemned unheard."</p>
+
+<p>"Unheard? Do you think words could change anything? There is only one
+thing I wish for now&mdash;never, never to see you again as long as either of
+us live!" With each word her voice rose, and on the last it broke with
+an excited sob.</p>
+
+<p>While she had been speaking the Prophet's face had become very pale. He
+turned to her now with a manner that was preternaturally quiet.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well!" he said. "I understand! But there is no need for you to
+trouble. All our arrangements are made&mdash;have been made for months. We
+attend the Gathering to-night; and afterwards, when Hellier Crescent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> is
+quiet, we go&mdash;as unobtrusively as we came. You see I give you the key to
+our plans; you are free to frustrate them, if you think fit. I don't
+believe I had any real hope of merciful judgment when I came here&mdash;women
+are not merciful when they are robbed of their illusions. But I confess
+I hoped for justice. I thought that you might hate me&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Hate you?" she cried. "Hate you? We only hate what we respect. I don't
+hate you. I only despise you with all my heart. I want you to go before
+I despise myself as well!" Her own cruel disillusioning&mdash;her own
+unbearable sense of loss&mdash;swept over her afresh; her voice rose again,
+and again broke hysterically. With an uncontrolled movement of grief and
+mortification she turned away from him and threw herself upon a couch,
+burying her face in the pillows.</p>
+
+<p>For several minutes she cried tempestuously; then through the storm of
+her angry tears she caught the sound of a closing door.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> With a start
+she sat up and looked about her.</p>
+
+<p>The faint relic of daylight still showed through the curtains of the
+window; the firelight still played pleasantly on the untouched tea-table
+and the fragile furniture; but the room was empty. The Prophet was
+gone.</p>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+     <img src="images/header.jpg" width="512" height="70"
+     alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+	<img class="plain" src="images/drop08.jpg"  width="76" height="75"
+		alt="W"
+		title="W" />
+</span>
+hen she realized this fact, Enid rose from her seat with a murmur of
+dismay. In her sharply feminine sense of loss, she took one involuntary
+step towards the door; but almost as the step was taken, her anger, her
+shattered faith assailed her anew, and, with a fresh burst of tears she
+turned and flung herself back upon the couch.</p>
+
+<p>For a long time she lay with her face among the pillows; then, at last,
+as her angry sobs died out and the violence of her grief subsided, she
+sat up, wiped her eyes, and glanced at her dripping handkerchief.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+   <a id="gs05" name="gs05"></a>
+     <img src="images/gs05.jpg"  width="382" height="600"
+     style="border: thin solid;"
+     alt="WITH A FRESH BURST OF TEARS, SHE TURNED AND FLUNG HERSELF UPON THE COUCH"
+     title="WITH A FRESH BURST OF TEARS, SHE TURNED AND FLUNG HERSELF UPON THE COUCH" />
+</div>
+
+<p>At sight of the handkerchief&mdash;a mere wisp of wet cambric&mdash;her sense of
+injury stung her afresh, and once more her lips began to quiver; but
+fate had decided against further <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>tears. Before her grief had gathered
+force, the bell of the hall-door sounded once more long and loudly; and
+hard upon the sound the door of the room opened.</p>
+
+<p>With a start of confusion she sprang to her feet, and turned to confront
+Norris, standing at a discreet distance, with an apologetic manner and
+downcast eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Bale-Corphew, ma'am," she murmured, as Enid looked at her. "I told
+him you were not at home; but he said he would wait till whenever he
+could see you, it didn't matter how long."</p>
+
+<p>With a little cry of dismay and annoyance, Enid put her hands to her
+disordered hair.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, how stupid of you!" she cried, tremulously. "You know I can't see
+him. You know I won't see him. Tell him I'm out&mdash;ill&mdash;anything you can
+think of&mdash;" But her voice suddenly faltered, and her words ended in a
+gasp, as she glanced from the servant to the door, which had abruptly
+reopened,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> displaying the face and figure of Bale-Corphew himself.</p>
+
+<p>Without hesitation he had entered the room; and without hesitation he
+walked straight towards her.</p>
+
+<p>"Forgive me!" he exclaimed. "I know this must seem unpardonable; but the
+occasion is without precedent. May I speak with you alone?"</p>
+
+<p>In the moment of his entry, and during his hurried greeting, Enid had
+mastered her agitation. She looked at him now with an attempt at
+calmness.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly, if you have anything to say."</p>
+
+<p>In the excitement under which he was obviously laboring, he did not
+observe the coldness of the granted permission. He waited with
+ill-concealed impatience until Norris had withdrawn, then he turned to
+her afresh.</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Witcherley!" he cried, "you see before you an outraged man!"</p>
+
+<p>He made the announcement fiercely and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> theatrically; but, to any ear, it
+would have been evident that, below the instinctive desire for dramatic
+effect, his voice trembled with genuine agitation&mdash;his speech was
+charged with violent feeling. To Enid, watching him with surprise and
+curiosity, it was patent at a glance that some circumstance, strange in
+its occurrence or vital in its issue, had shaken him to the base of his
+emotional nature. And as she looked at him her own coldness, her own
+humiliation, suddenly forsook her.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" she cried, involuntarily. "What is it? Something has
+happened?"</p>
+
+<p>For one moment his answer was delayed&mdash;held back by the torrent of words
+that rushed to his lips; then, at last, as his tongue freed itself, he
+threw out his hands in a fierce gesture.</p>
+
+<p>"Outrage! Outrage and sacrilege!" he cried. "We have been
+duped&mdash;deceived&mdash;tricked. We, the Chosen&mdash;the Elect!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Duped? Deceived?" She echoed the words, faintly. "What do you mean?
+What has happened?"</p>
+
+<p>"Everything! Everything!" Again he threw out his hands. "This man that
+we have called Prophet&mdash;this man that we have bent the knee to&mdash;he is
+nothing; nothing&mdash;" Once more emotion overpowered his words.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing?" Enid's voice was indistinct, her tongue dry.</p>
+
+<p>"&mdash;Nothing but an impostor! An impostor! A thief!"</p>
+
+<p>He spoke loudly&mdash;even violently. To his listener it seemed that his
+voice rang out, filling the room, filling the street outside, filling
+the whole world. As she had done in the Prophet's presence, she raised
+her hands and pressed them over her ears. But, even through her fingers,
+his tones came loud and penetrating.</p>
+
+<p>"An impostor!" he cried, again. "A liar! A blasphemer!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Her hands dropped from her face.</p>
+
+<p>"Stop! Stop!" she cried, weakly.</p>
+
+<p>But he was beyond appeal.</p>
+
+<p>"You must hear!" he cried. "It is ordained. You have been the unwitting
+instrument by which the man has fallen."</p>
+
+<p>"I? I? The instrument?" She stared at him with wide eyes and a white
+face.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, you!" He stepped to her side. "Without you, suspicion would never
+have been aroused. Without you, he might have carried out his base
+designs. It was the power of the Unseen that guided me on the day I
+entered the Presence Room and found you alone with him." He spoke
+hurriedly and disjointedly, but as the last word left his lips another
+expression crossed his face, as though a new suggestion passed through
+his mind.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you see nothing strange in that Audience?" he demanded. "Did you
+see nothing strange in the fact that he&mdash;a Prophet of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> Sublime
+Mysteries&mdash;should hold your hand, as any man of the earth might hold
+it?" He bent still closer, jealousy and suspicion darkening his face.</p>
+
+<p>Enid glanced at him fearfully. "No! No!" she said, sharply. "I&mdash;saw
+nothing strange. He was the Prophet."</p>
+
+<p>Bale-Corphew's face relaxed.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" he said, slowly. "I believe you. But, if <i>you</i> were blind, <i>I</i>
+saw." He paused and passed his handkerchief over his face. Cold as the
+day was, drops of perspiration stood upon his forehead.</p>
+
+<p>"I saw. And from that hour the man was lost."</p>
+
+<p>"Lost?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, lost." He laughed excitedly; and to Enid the laugh sounded
+singularly unpleasant, sharp, and cruel. "From that day we have watched
+him&mdash;we, the Six. We have watched him and his friend&mdash;the dog who has
+dared to desecrate the name of Precursor.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> We have watched them night
+and day; we have seen them, listened to them hour after hour, while they
+believed themselves unobserved&mdash;?"</p>
+
+<p>"And what do you know? What have you learned?" There was a strange
+faintness in the tone of her voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Everything. Only yesterday we touched the key-stone of their scheme.
+To-night&mdash;this very night&mdash;they have planned an escape. They will attend
+as usual in the Place; they will fool us as they have fooled us before;
+and then, when the house is quiet&mdash;when the Six are at rest, exhausted
+by prayer and meditation&mdash;they will accomplish their vile work. They
+will plunder the Treasury of the Unseen!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh no! No!" With a swift movement she turned to him.</p>
+
+<p>He looked at her for an instant, of silence, and then again the
+unpleasant, excited laugh escaped him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"You are right," he cried, suddenly. "What you say is right. There will
+be no plunder. The Treasury of the Unseen will remain inviolate!"</p>
+
+<p>As he paused she made no sound; but her eyes rested upon his, fascinated
+by their feverish brightness; and in the midst of her silent regard he
+spoke again, bending forward until his lips approached her ear.</p>
+
+<p>"They have laid their plans," he whispered, with a sudden and savage
+exultation, "but we also have laid ours. And even we cannot reckon upon
+the consequences. The spiritual enthusiast is not easy to hold in check,
+once he has been aroused!"</p>
+
+<p>Enid stared at him, the pupils of her eyes dilated, her lips pale.</p>
+
+<p>"You mean&mdash;? You mean&mdash;?" she stammered; then her fear found voice.
+"What do you mean?" she demanded, in sharp, alarmed tones.</p>
+
+<p>Bale-Corphew met her question, steadily.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I mean," he said, with fierce vindictiveness, "that at the Gathering
+to-night he will be publicly denounced!"</p>
+
+<p>He made the declaration slowly, and each word fell with overwhelming
+weight upon his companion's understanding. As in the bewildered mazes of
+a nightmare she saw the crowded chapel, the fanatical, unstable faces of
+the congregation, the six Arch-Mystics&mdash;outraged, incensed, unrelenting;
+and in their midst the Prophet, tall and grave and masterful, as she had
+seen him a hundred times. One man facing a sea of ungoverned emotion! At
+the vision her heart swelled suddenly and her soul sickened. With a
+gesture, almost as passionate as his own, she turned upon Bale-Corphew.</p>
+
+<p>"You would denounce him before the People?" she said, incredulously.
+"You would trap him? One man against a hundred! Oh, it would be
+cowardly! Cruel!"</p>
+
+<p>Bale-Corphew's face flamed to a deeper red.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Cowardly? Cowardly? Do you know what you are saying? The man is a
+thief!"</p>
+
+<p>For one moment she shrank before the epithet; the next she raised her
+head, her eyes flashing, her lips parted.</p>
+
+<p>"You have no right to use that word. You have not seen him steal."</p>
+
+<p>"Seen him? No. But the ears are as reliable as the eyes, and we have
+heard him declare that he intends to steal."</p>
+
+<p>"Intends! Intends! Intentions are not acts." In her deep agitation, she
+turned upon him with a new demeanor.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, be merciful!" she cried. "Give him the benefit of mercy. Wait till
+the Assembly is over, and then accuse him. If you can prove your
+accusation, then justice can be done. On the other hand&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"The other hand?" Again Bale-Corphew's cruel laugh broke from him. "He
+has not shrunk from lies&mdash;from imposture&mdash;from blasphemy. Is it likely
+he will shrink<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> from his reward? Oh no! We will run no risks. The trap
+has closed. No one will gain access to him to-night until the hour of
+the Gathering has arrived. It will be my special&mdash;my sacred&mdash;duty to
+watch and guard." As he spoke his eyes seemed to devour her face, and
+before the expression in their depths her strength faltered.</p>
+
+<p>"And why have you come here?" she asked, unsteadily. "Why have you come
+here? What has this to do with me?"</p>
+
+<p>As she put the questions, he watched her closely; and when her voice
+quivered, a spasm of emotion&mdash;a wave of jealousy and suspicion&mdash;swept
+his face.</p>
+
+<p>"Can you ask that question?" he demanded.</p>
+
+<p>Enid wavered.</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?" she murmured. "Why should I not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?" He laughed again, suddenly and savagely. "Because the man
+loves you.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> Because he stole out of the house to-day&mdash;and came here to
+you. I tracked him here and tracked him back again."</p>
+
+<p>Enid shrank away from him.</p>
+
+<p>"So&mdash;so you are a spy?" she said, in a confused, uneven voice.</p>
+
+<p>He turned instantly, his passions aflame.</p>
+
+<p>"A spy?" he cried. "I am a spy? Very well! We will see who comes out
+victor. The thief or the spy." His voice rose, his face darkened. The
+demon of jealousy that had pursued him for seven days was free of the
+leash at last.</p>
+
+<p>"I wanted to know this," he exclaimed. "I wanted to be sure. I had my
+suspicions, but I wanted proof. On the day I surprised you with him, I
+suspected; to-day, when I saw him enter this house, I felt convinced&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Convinced of what?"</p>
+
+<p>"Convinced that there is more in this matter than his love for you. That
+there is also&mdash;"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>With a swift movement Enid stopped him. She was quivering violently, but
+she held her head high.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she said, distinctly. "Yes, you are quite right. There is more in
+this matter than his love for me. There is also my love for him!"</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes were blazing; her heart was beating fast. With an agitation
+equal to Bale-Corphew's own she moved to the fireplace and pressed the
+bell.</p>
+
+<p>When the servant appeared she turned to her.</p>
+
+<p>"Norris," she said, in a quiet voice, "show Mr. Bale-Corphew out."</p>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+     <img src="images/header.jpg" width="512" height="70"
+     alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2>
+
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+	<img class="plain" src="images/drop09.jpg"  width="75" height="75"
+		alt="T"
+		title="T" />
+</span>
+here are few phases of human existence more interesting than that in
+which a young and sensitive woman is compelled by circumstances to cast
+aside the pleasant artifices, the carefully modulated emotions of a
+sheltered life, and to face the realities of fact and feeling.</p>
+
+<p>For twenty-three years Enid Witcherley had played with existence&mdash;toying
+with it, enjoying it, as an epicure enjoys a rare wine or a choice
+morsel of food prepared for his appreciation. Now, as she stood alone in
+her small drawing-room with its costly decorations, its feminine
+atmosphere, she was conscious for the first time that the banquet of
+life is not in reality a display of delicate viands and tempting
+vintages, but a meal of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> common bread&mdash;sweet or bitter as destiny
+decrees. She saw this, and with a flash of comprehension knew and
+acknowledged that her heart and her brain cried out for the wholesome
+necessary food.</p>
+
+<p>An hour ago, when the Prophet had stood before her and made his
+confession, she had been overwhelmed by the tide of her own feelings; in
+the rush of humiliation and disappointment&mdash;in the tremendous knowledge
+that the image she had called gold was in reality but clay&mdash;she had been
+too mortified to see beyond her own horizon. In that moment their places
+in the drama had been indisputably allotted. She herself had appeared
+the unoffending heroine, unjustly humiliated in her own eyes and in the
+eyes of others; he had stood out, in unpardonable guise, the cause&mdash;the
+instrument&mdash;of that humiliation. In the bitter knowledge she had
+confronted him unrelentingly. A spoiled child&mdash;an unreasoning feminine
+egoist.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But now that moment, with its instructive and primitive emotions, was
+passed by what seemed months&mdash;years&mdash;a century. By a process of mind as
+swift as it was subtle, the child had grown into a woman&mdash;the egoist had
+become conscious of another existence. With the entrance of
+Bale-Corphew&mdash;with the sound of her own denunciation upon his lips&mdash;a
+new feeling had awakened within her&mdash;a feeling stronger than
+humiliation, stronger than pride. It had risen, blinding and dazzling
+her, as a great light might blind and dazzle; and she stood glorified
+and exalted within its radiance.</p>
+
+<p>As the door had closed upon her second visitor, a long sobbing sigh of
+excitement, of tumultuous joy and fear shook her from head to foot; she
+involuntarily drew her figure to its full height, and covered her face
+with both hands, as though to ward off the light that lay across her
+world.</p>
+
+<p>But the great moment of joy and comprehension<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> could not last; other and
+more insistent factors were at work within her mind&mdash;claiming, even
+demanding attention. Almost as the outer door closed upon Bale-Corphew,
+her hands dropped to her sides and an expression akin to terror crossed
+her eyes. With a mind rendered supersensitive by its own emotions, she
+realized what the next five hours might hold; and like a tangible menace
+the dark, angry face of the Arch-Mystic flashed back upon her
+consciousness.</p>
+
+<p>While he had been present in the room, while his turbulent voice had
+filled her ears, she had been only partly alive to the threatened
+danger; but now that his presence had been removed, now that she was
+free to sift the meaning of his words, their full significance was borne
+in upon her. With an alarming clearness of vision, she recognized that
+behind his threats lay a definite meaning; that the man himself, at all
+times passionate, and, on occasion, violent in temperament, had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span>
+suddenly become a danger&mdash;something as fierce and menacing as an
+uncontrolled element.</p>
+
+<p>She realized and understood this rapidly, as only the mind knows and
+comprehends in moments of stress and crisis; and before her knowledge,
+all ideas save one fell away like chaff before the wind. At all
+costs&mdash;in face of every obstacle&mdash;she must warn and save the Prophet!</p>
+
+<p>With a start of apprehension, she glanced at the clock and saw that the
+hands marked ten minutes to seven. Moving to the fireplace, she once
+more pressed the bell; and as Norris answered, turned to her, heedless
+for perhaps the first time in her life of outward appearances.</p>
+
+<p>"Get me my long black cloak, Norris," she said. "And a black hat and
+veil. I am going out."</p>
+
+<p>Norris's face expressed no surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"You will be back to dinner, ma'am?" she inquired.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No. I shall not want dinner. I may not be back till ten&mdash;perhaps
+eleven. If I am late, no one need wait up." She walked to a mirror and
+began nervously smoothing her ruffled hair, while Norris left the room,
+and returned with the desired garments.</p>
+
+<p>With the same nervous haste she put on her hat, tied the thick veil over
+her face, and allowed herself to be helped into her cloak. Then, without
+a word, she crossed the drawing-room, passed through the hall of the
+flat, and entered the lift.</p>
+
+<p>At the street-door she was compelled to wait while the hall-porter
+called a cab; and the momentary delay almost overtaxed her patience. An
+audible sound of relief escaped her when the clatter of hoofs and jingle
+of bells announced that the wait was over.</p>
+
+<p>"St. George's Terrace!" she ordered, in a low voice, and it seemed to
+her perturbed mind that even the stolid attendant must find something
+portentous in the words;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> then she sank into the corner of the cab and
+closed her eyes, as she heard her order repeated to the cabman, and felt
+the horse swing forward into the stream of traffic.</p>
+
+<p>More than once she altered her position as the distance between
+Knightsbridge and St. George's Terrace lessened. She was devoured by
+impatience and yet paralyzed by dread. Once, as the cab halted in a
+block of traffic, she heard a clock strike seven, and at the sound the
+blood rushed to her face as she thought of the nearness of her ordeal;
+but an instant later she drew out her watch to verify the time, and
+paled with sudden apprehension as she realized that the clock was slow.</p>
+
+<p>So her mind oscillated until the cab drew up beside the curb; and, with
+a nervous start, she heard the cabman open the trap-door.</p>
+
+<p>"What number, lady?" he asked.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+   <a id="gs06" name="gs06"></a>
+     <img src="images/gs06.jpg"  width="338" height="600"
+     style="border: thin solid;"
+     alt="HER HAND WAS TREMBLING AS SHE RAISED THE HEAVY KNOCKER"
+     title="HER HAND WAS TREMBLING AS SHE RAISED THE HEAVY KNOCKER" />
+</div>
+
+<p>She answered almost guiltily: "No number! Just stop here! Put me down
+here!" <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span>She rose, gathering her long cloak about her.</p>
+
+<p>Try as she might, she could not control her excitement, as she crossed
+the roadway and entered Hellier Crescent after a week's absence. Her
+hand was trembling as she raised the heavy knocker on the familiar door;
+and her voice shook as she repeated the necessary formula.</p>
+
+<p>There was a slight delay&mdash;a slight hesitancy on the part of the
+door-keeper; then the slide, which had opened at her knock, closed with
+a click, and the massive door swung back.</p>
+
+<p>She stepped forward eagerly, but on the moment that she entered the hall
+her heart sank. With a thrill of apprehension she saw that in place of
+the humble member of the congregation who usually attended there, the
+tall, fair-bearded Arch-Mystic known as George Norov was guarding the
+door. Small though the incident might appear, it conveyed to her, as no
+spoken declaration could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> have done, the spirit of action and vigilance
+reigning in the House.</p>
+
+<p>While the thought flashed through her mind, Norov surveyed her from his
+great height.</p>
+
+<p>"You are in good time, my child; the Gathering is for eight o'clock."</p>
+
+<p>She looked up at him.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she said, quickly. "I know it is for eight o'clock, but I have
+come early. I have come because I wish&mdash;" Her courage faltered before
+the intent, searching gaze of his blue eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I have come," she added, with gathered resolution, "because I desire
+private Audience with the Prophet&mdash;because there is something on my Soul
+of which I must unburden myself."</p>
+
+<p>The Arch-Mystic looked at her and his eyes seemed cold as steel.</p>
+
+<p>"The Prophet holds private Audience only in the morning," he replied, in
+an even voice.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Enid flushed.</p>
+
+<p>"I know that. But there are exceptions to the rule&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>The Arch-Mystic shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"The Prophet holds private Audience only in the morning."</p>
+
+<p>"But the Prophet is generous. Five minutes alone with him will satisfy
+me&mdash;three minutes&mdash;two minutes&mdash;" Her tone quickened as her anxiety
+increased.</p>
+
+<p>Still Norov's blue eyes met hers unswervingly.</p>
+
+<p>"The Prophet holds private Audience only in the morning."</p>
+
+<p>At the second repetition her apprehension rose to fear; and in her
+alarmed trepidation she conceived a new idea. With a rapid searching
+glance her eyes travelled over the Arch-Mystic's powerful figure, while
+she mentally measured his physical strength with that of the Prophet.
+Her survey was short and comprehensive; and her decision came<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> with
+equal speed. With a subtle change of manner and voice she made a fresh
+appeal. Turning to him with a gesture of deference, she spoke again in a
+soft and conciliatory voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, you are right in what you say," she murmured. "But I am
+going to make an appeal. If I may not see the Prophet in private
+Audience, then let me see him in your presence! I have only a dozen
+words to say; and, if necessary, I will say them in your presence. You
+can see it is urgent, when I am willing to humiliate myself. It is only
+for her Soul that a woman will conquer her pride. You won't deny peace
+to my Soul?" Her voice dropped, her whole expression pleaded.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment&mdash;for just one moment&mdash;it seemed to her desperate gaze that
+his hard blue eyes softened; the next, their cold, unyielding glance
+disillusioned her of hope.</p>
+
+<p>"It is useless to appeal to me," he said;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> "but if you very much desire
+it, you can make your request to my brother Mystic&mdash;Horatio
+Bale-Corphew. He is guarding the Prophet's Threshold."</p>
+
+<p>Whether the man had any glimmering of knowledge as to her private
+connection with Bale-Corphew and the Prophet was not to be read from his
+austere face. His words might have been spoken in all innocence, or
+might have been spoken deliberately and with malice. But in either case
+the result, so far as his listener was concerned, was the same. A sense
+of frightened impotence fell upon her&mdash;a knowledge that her enemy had a
+longer reach and a more powerful arm than she had guessed.</p>
+
+<p>By a great effort she controlled her feelings.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you!" she said, quietly, "but I will not trouble Mr.
+Bale-Corphew. If I may, I will wait in the Place until the Gathering is
+assembled."</p>
+
+<p>Her companion bent his head.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Permission is granted!" he said.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment longer she stood, burning with apprehensive dread. On one
+hand was the Prophet&mdash;trapped and unaware of his peril; on the other was
+Bale-Corphew&mdash;implacable, enraged, unrelaxing in his pursuit. She waited
+irresolute, until the cold, inquiring gaze of the Arch-Mystic made
+action compulsory; then, scarcely conscious of the movement, she
+inclined her head in mechanical acknowledgment of his courtesy, and,
+turning away, passed down the lofty, sombre hall.</p>
+
+<p>Never in after-life was she able to remember, with any degree of
+distinctness, her threading of the familiar corridors leading to the
+chapel. Her consciousness of outer things was numbed by mental strife.
+Reaching the heavy curtain that shut off the sacred precinct, she thrust
+it aside with nervous impetuosity and stood looking around the deserted
+chapel&mdash;glancing from the rows of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> empty chairs to the Sanctuary, where
+the great golden Throne stood shrouded in a white cloth, and the silver
+censers lay awaiting the flame.</p>
+
+<p>At a first glance it seemed that the chapel was entirely empty, but as
+her eyes grew accustomed to the modulated light diffused by eight large
+tapers, she saw that the Sanctuary was occupied by one sombre figure
+that flitted silently between the lectern and the Throne. For an instant
+her heart leaped, for the man was of the same height and build as the
+Precursor; but a second glance put her hopes to flight. The Mystic
+within the Sanctuary was the humble member of the congregation whose
+duty it was to wait upon the Prophet.</p>
+
+<p>As she passed slowly and automatically up the aisle, the man turned and
+looked at her; but after a cursory glance returned to his task of
+setting the Sanctuary in order.</p>
+
+<p>The look and the evident unconcern chilled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> and daunted her anew. With a
+movement of despair she paused, and sank into one of the empty chairs.</p>
+
+<p>For a space that seemed eternal, she sat huddled in her seat&mdash;her hands
+clasped nervously in her lap; her ears alert to catch the slightest
+sound; her eyes unconsciously following the movements of the man within
+the Sanctuary; then, suddenly and abruptly, the tension snapped; and
+action&mdash;action of some description&mdash;became imperative. She rose from her
+seat.</p>
+
+<p>After she had risen, she stood aimlessly looking about her at the
+black-and-white walls, at the rows of chairs, at the gleaming octagonal
+symbol that hung from the roof; then, as if magnetically attracted, her
+glance travelled back to the man inside the Sanctuary rail.</p>
+
+<p>There was nothing remarkable in the spare figure, moving reverently from
+one sacred object to another; but as her eyes rested on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> the colorless,
+ascetic face, her own cheeks flushed with a new hope&mdash;a new inspiration.
+With a quick movement she glanced furtively behind her; and, stepping
+carefully between the chairs, regained the aisle and moved swiftly and
+noiselessly up the chapel.</p>
+
+<p>Her heart was beating so fast, the nervous strain was so intense, that
+when she reached the railing she stood for a moment unable to command
+her voice. And when the Mystic&mdash;becoming suddenly aware of her near
+presence&mdash;turned and confronted her, a faint sound of nervous alarm
+slipped from her.</p>
+
+<p>For a space the two looked at each other; and at last the man appeared
+to realize that something was expected of him. Bending his head, he
+uttered the formula of the sect.</p>
+
+<p>"In what can I serve you?"</p>
+
+<p>The familiar words braced Enid. She glanced at him afresh, and in that
+glance her plan of action arranged itself. For one moment, as she had
+walked up the aisle, her hand<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> had sought her purse, but now, as she
+scanned the ascetic face of this unworldly servant, her fingers
+involuntarily loosened and the purse slipped back into her pocket. With
+a new resolve, she looked him straight in the eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"You can do me a great service&mdash;a very great service," she said,
+quietly, in her soft, clear voice.</p>
+
+<p>The man looked at her in slow inquiry.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I know you are surprised," she added, quickly. "I know this seems
+unusual&mdash;" She paused in momentary hesitation.</p>
+
+<p>The Mystic appeared distressed.</p>
+
+<p>"My&mdash;my duty&mdash;" he broke in, uneasily. "My duty is to&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>But she checked him suddenly.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+   <a id="gs07" name="gs07"></a>
+     <img src="images/gs07.jpg"  width="371" height="600"
+     style="border: thin solid;"
+     alt="' AM IN NEED OF HELP ... AND YOU CAN HELP ME'"
+     title="'I AM IN NEED OF HELP ... AND YOU CAN HELP ME'"/>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Charity is greater than duty!" she said, in a low, impressive tone. By
+the same feminine intuition that had made her discard her purse, she saw
+that by a semi-mystical appeal&mdash;and by that alone&mdash;could she hope to
+succeed. Laying her hands upon <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>the Sanctuary railing, she leaned
+forward, and raised her large eyes to the man's face.</p>
+
+<p>"Which do <i>you</i> consider the greater virtue?" she asked. "Duty or
+charity?"</p>
+
+<p>The Mystic looked at her.</p>
+
+<p>"Charity," he said, at last, hesitatingly, "the Prophet teaches us&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Enid's face flushed.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes! yes!" she cried. "The Prophet teaches us that charity is the
+greater virtue. He tells us that we are to rely upon ourselves&mdash;and also
+upon each other. We are to help ourselves&mdash;and to help each other." Her
+voice shook, her face glowed in her excitement and suspense.</p>
+
+<p>"I am in need of help," she added. "In desperate need. And you can help
+me."</p>
+
+<p>Her tone was urgent, her compelling gaze never faltered. She knew that
+this was her last chance&mdash;that, if this man failed her, catastrophe was
+inevitable.</p>
+
+<p>The Mystic stirred uncomfortably, and his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> glance turned half fearfully
+from the intent, appealing face to the lectern on which rested the
+white-bound Scitsym.</p>
+
+<p>With a sudden access of enthusiasm, Enid spoke again.</p>
+
+<p>"There is something troubling my Soul," she said. "Something that I must
+confess to the Prophet to-night. My whole happiness&mdash;all my
+peace&mdash;depends upon confessing it. I cannot speak with him before the
+Gathering assembles; but I can write my confession. Will you save my
+Soul? Will you carry my confession to him?"</p>
+
+<p>Until the words were actually spoken, she did not realize how immensely
+she had staked upon her chances of success. In a fever of anxiety she
+waited, watching the man's gaze as it wavered undecidedly over the
+Scitsym, then returned, as if magnetized, to her face.</p>
+
+<p>"In twenty minutes the Gathering will be assembled," he murmured.</p>
+
+<p>"I know, I know. But there is still time.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> It is a matter of&mdash;of
+faith&mdash;of peace of mind."</p>
+
+<p>The man shuffled his feet.</p>
+
+<p>"It&mdash;it is impossible," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Why impossible?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because the Prophet is exalted to-night. The Arch-Mystics themselves
+are guarding the Threshold. The Prophet is exalted; he must not be
+disturbed."</p>
+
+<p>"But if it is necessary to disturb him? If there is a Soul in danger?"</p>
+
+<p>"The Prophet must not be disturbed. What are we, that we should thrust
+our wrong-doing or our sorrow upon the Mighty One?"</p>
+
+<p>At the words a rage of apprehension shook Enid. She lifted her head, and
+her fingers closed fiercely round the iron bar that topped the railing.</p>
+
+<p>"Silence!" she said, excitedly. "You do not know what you are saying!
+The Prophet sets his people high above himself. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> message of a Soul
+in distress is of more value in his eyes than a hundred moments of
+exaltation. Take care that his wrath does not fall upon you!"</p>
+
+<p>Involuntarily the man paled.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Take care!" she cried. "Take care! You have the well-being&mdash;the
+whole future&mdash;of one Soul in your hands to-night. How will you answer to
+the Prophet, if you fail in the trust?"</p>
+
+<p>The Mystic cowered.</p>
+
+<p>"If you fail, the wrong can never be repaired. And the doing of the
+action will cost you nothing. Take this note&mdash;" With agitated haste she
+tore a leaf from a tiny note-book that hung at her waist. "Take this
+note. Tell no one. Give it into the Prophet's own hands&mdash;" She drew out
+a pencil and wrote a few enigmatical words. "Give it into his own hands;
+and I can promise you that your reward will be greater than you think."
+With a rapid movement,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> she roiled up the paper and held it out to him.</p>
+
+<p>"Take it," she said, impressively. "And remember that it is something
+important, essential&mdash;sacred." On the last word her voice rose; then,
+without warning, it suddenly broke.</p>
+
+<p>A curtain at the back of the Sanctuary had been drawn aside; and for the
+second time that evening, the face of Bale-Corphew confronted her
+through the dusk.</p>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+     <img src="images/header.jpg" width="512" height="70"
+     alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2>
+
+
+<p>
+<span class="figleft">
+	<img class="plain" src="images/drop10.jpg"  width="75" height="75"
+		alt="F"
+		title="F" />
+</span>
+or one instant Enid stood spellbound; then involuntarily she stepped
+backward, crumpling the slip of paper in her hand.</p>
+
+<p>At the same movement Bale-Corphew advanced and, passing the Mystic,
+indicated the Sanctuary curtain.</p>
+
+<p>"Go!" he commanded, in an unsteady voice. And as the man slunk away, he
+wheeled round and confronted Enid.</p>
+
+<p>"So this is your action?" he said, tremulously. "This is your conception
+of honor? Truly, woman is the undoing of man!" With an excited gesture,
+he lifted his hand and extended it towards the white Scitsym lying upon
+the lectern.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But Enid met his attack with the courage that sometimes outlives hope.</p>
+
+<p>"A just man need fear no woman!" she exclaimed. "It is because you are
+unjust and a coward that you fear&mdash;that you suspect&mdash;that you find it
+necessary to hide and spy."</p>
+
+<p>The color surged over his face.</p>
+
+<p>"I have been outraged!" he cried&mdash;"I have been outraged!"</p>
+
+<p>"And, like an unreasoning animal, you turn to devour the thing that has
+hurt you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I demand justice."</p>
+
+<p>She threw out her hands and laughed suddenly and hysterically.</p>
+
+<p>"And you call this justice? You call it justice to trap one man and set
+a hundred others loose upon him?"</p>
+
+<p>But Bale-Corphew turned upon her.</p>
+
+<p>"And what is this man to you?" he cried. "What spell has he cast upon
+you that you can forget his outrage and his blasphemy?"</p>
+
+<p>Enid met the question with her new fortitude;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> searching Bale-Corphew's
+turbulent face, she answered with a certain high simplicity.</p>
+
+<p>"I do not know," she said. "Once I believed that I admired him&mdash;that I
+looked up to him&mdash;because he was a Prophet; something higher and better
+than myself. Now I know that my belief was wrong and false; that it was
+because he is a man&mdash;because, before everything else in the world, he is
+a man&mdash;that I turned to him, that I relied upon him."</p>
+
+<p>Bale-Corphew gave a short, cruel laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"So that is it? That is the secret? He is a man? Well, I will strip him
+of his manhood! We have had our disillusioning; yours is to come. Here,
+on this sacred spot where he has been so exalted, he will bite the
+dust."</p>
+
+<p>He paused triumphantly; and in the pause there rose again to Enid's mind
+the picture of one tall, white-robed figure confronting a sea of
+faces&mdash;all incensed&mdash;all passionately, vindictively unanimous in
+desire.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Oh no!" she said, suddenly, faltering before the picture. "No! No! You
+cannot. You must not. Be merciful! Let him go. And if there is
+anything&mdash;any recompense&mdash;" But even as it was spoken, the appeal died.
+Somewhere in the heart of the House a solemn clock chimed the hour of
+eight; and as though the sound were a signal, the curtain of the chapel
+door was drawn softly back, and a stream of dark-robed figures poured
+over the empty floor.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment she stood immovable before the imminence of the crucial
+scene; then, with a sensation of physical weakness and helplessness, she
+turned, moved blindly forward, and sank into a vacant seat.</p>
+
+<p>At the same moment Bale-Corphew left her without a word, and passed
+rapidly down the aisle.</p>
+
+<p>Great fear frequently exercises a paralyzing effect upon the body. With
+the undeniable knowledge that the time for action&mdash;the time<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> for
+hope&mdash;was irrevocably passed, Enid felt deprived of the power to move.
+She sat crouching in her seat, every sense alive and strained, but with
+limbs that were overpowered and weighted as if by tangible fetters.</p>
+
+<p>Thrilling to this numb and impotent sense of dread, she heard the
+devotees enter the chapel, one after another, and pass to their chosen
+seats with soft, gliding steps. With a sickening knowledge of
+approaching catastrophe, she saw another of the unconventional
+black-robed servants emerge from behind the Sanctuary curtain, and
+proceed with maddening deliberation to light the sixteen groups of wax
+tapers that were set at intervals along the walls. Mechanically her eyes
+followed the man's movements; and it seemed that each new taper that
+spat, flickered, and shot up into a light was a symbol, a portent of the
+scene to come.</p>
+
+<p>As the last candle was lighted, the shuffling of feet and the stir of
+garments that,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> since the entry of the first devotee, had unceasingly
+filled the chapel suddenly subsided, and nerved to motion by the lull,
+she turned and glanced behind her.</p>
+
+<p>The scene, familiar though it was, impressed her anew. It was a strange
+effect in black and white. The black clothes of the congregation seemed
+massed together in a sombre blur; their strained, fanatical faces looked
+white and set; while the marble walls shone out, sharp and polished, in
+the same contrasting hues. Over the whole scene the concentrated light
+and accentuated shadow thrown by the great sconces glowing with tapers,
+made a variation of tone almost as vivid as that seen on a moonlight
+night.</p>
+
+<p>Unconsciously she recognized the curious, the almost barbaric
+picturesqueness of light and grouping; but her eyes had barely skimmed
+the scene when the meaning of the hush that filled the place was brought
+home to her mind.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Glancing towards the curtain that hid the entrance, she saw the figure
+of the Prophet move slowly into the chapel and pass up the aisle,
+attended by the Precursor and the Six Arch-Mystics.</p>
+
+<p>He moved forward with grave, dignified steps, and with a head held even
+higher than usual, and reaching the Sanctuary gate, passed through it
+without hesitation.</p>
+
+<p>The action was so calm&mdash;so natural&mdash;so like what she had witnessed night
+after night&mdash;that Enid sat newly petrified, her senses striving to
+associate this strong figure with the man who, only a few hours before,
+had humiliated himself in her presence. For a moment her mind refused
+the connection of ideas; but the next a full realization of the position
+swept over her, galvanizing her mentally and physically, as she turned
+in her seat and glanced at the seven who were following in the wake.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+   <a id="gs08" name="gs08"></a>
+     <img src="images/gs08.jpg"  width="285" height="600 "
+     style="border: thin solid;"
+     alt="SHE SAW THE FIGURE OF THE PROPHET ... ATTENDED BY THE PRECURSOR AND THE SIX ARCH-MYSTICS"
+     title="SHE SAW THE FIGURE OF THE PROPHET ... ATTENDED BY THE PRECURSOR AND THE SIX ARCH-MYSTICS" />
+</div>
+
+<p>First behind his master came the Precursor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span>. And to Enid's searching
+gaze it seemed that his face was set into unfamiliar and anxious lines;
+but under his black cap and red hair, his skin looked colorless and
+drawn. But after the first glance, her eyes were not for him; with swift
+apprehension they passed to the six Arch-Mystics who, walking two and
+two, formed the procession.</p>
+
+<p>Animated by the speed of actual fear, her gaze passed from the
+abnormally agitated face of old Arian, the blind Arch-Councillor, to the
+dark, turbulent face of Bale-Corphew, who brought up the rear. The
+survey was rapid and comprehensive; and to her uneasy mind the thought
+came with unerring certainty that, on all the six faces&mdash;differing so
+markedly in physical characteristics&mdash;there was a common look of
+suppressed excitement, of suppressed resolve.</p>
+
+<p>As they passed her seat, Norov turned and shot a glance of cold
+curiosity in her direction;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> but otherwise the whole group seemed
+unaware of her presence. Still inert, she sat, watching every movement
+in the scene before her as one might watch a drama that would, at a
+given moment, cease to be entertainment and become real life.</p>
+
+<p>Very quietly the Prophet advanced to the Scitsym and, following the
+customary routine, opened it and began to read.</p>
+
+<p>The words were a strange jargon of mystical counsel interspersed with
+the relation of mystical visions and ecstasies. On ordinary lips, the
+long, disjointed sentences and disconnected phrases would have sounded
+vague and incomprehensible; but, from the first, it had been one of the
+Prophet's special gifts that his deep, grave voice could lend weight and
+meaning to the fantastic utterances. And to-night it seemed that he
+intended to put forth all his powers; for scarcely had he opened the
+book and begun to read, than a stir of interest passed over the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span>
+congregation; and even Enid, enmeshed in her own terrors, bent forward
+involuntarily.</p>
+
+<p>He spoke very slowly, enunciating every word with studied seriousness;
+and from time to time he paused and looked across the sea of fixed and
+almost adoring faces turned in his direction. It was as if, by strength
+of will, he had determined that no point, no syllable, of this, his last
+reading, should be lost upon his hearers. More than once, Bale-Corphew
+moved uneasily and shot a glance at Norov; but the Prophet was
+unconscious of these surreptitious signs.</p>
+
+<p>For half an hour he read on, slowly, distinctly, impressively; then,
+still following the routine of the evening service, he closed the book
+and calmly moved across the Sanctuary to the Throne. As he neared it,
+the Precursor stepped forward deferentially and conducted him to the
+foot of the gilt steps.</p>
+
+<p>Having ascended, he took his seat with calm impassivity and, resting his
+hands upon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> the arms of the great gold chair, looked out once more upon
+the massed faces. This, according to custom, was the signal for a
+general movement. The congregation swayed forward, prostrating
+themselves upon the ground, while the Arch-Mystics gathered their wide,
+black robes about them and assumed attitudes of rapt contemplation.</p>
+
+<p>In obedience to usage, Enid also dropped upon her knees and covered her
+face with her hands. But though her pose was conventional, there was
+little place in her thoughts for either prayer or meditation. One
+idea&mdash;and one only&mdash;absorbed her being. How, and at what moment, must
+she gather strength to act? She crouched upon the ground, her hands
+pressed tightly over her eyes. It seemed to her that all the torture,
+all the suspense and apprehension of the universe, were gathered into
+that half-hour of appalling silence. Once she ventured to unlace her
+fingers and glance<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> through them fearfully; but at sight of the Prophet,
+calm, impassive, unconscious of his threatened danger&mdash;at sight of the
+six sombre shrouded figures that sat inside the Sanctuary railing, her
+blood turned cold and her courage quailed.</p>
+
+<p>When the sign that ended the evening's meditation was given, she rose
+with the rest and sank weakly into her seat. Then, in dumb, stricken
+helplessness such as envelops us in a terrible dream, she saw the
+Prophet rise very slowly and stand on the steps of the Throne, looking
+solemnly down upon the people.</p>
+
+<p>During his change of position, she sat vacillating pitiably. The
+knowledge that in a single moment he would have begun to speak spurred
+her to a fever of alarm, while a terrible nervous incapacity chained her
+limbs and paralyzed her tongue.</p>
+
+<p>Bale-Corphew's words rose to her mind. "He will fool us&mdash;as he has
+fooled us before."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> In the apprehension aroused by the memory, she half
+rose in her chair, her hands grasping the back of the seat in front of
+her; but suddenly the chapel, the lights, the congregation seemed to
+fade from her vision, and she sank back into her place. The Prophet had
+begun to speak.</p>
+
+<p>"My People," he said, very calmly and distinctly, "heretofore I have
+spoken to you as a teacher. To-night I will speak to you as one of
+yourselves."</p>
+
+<p>Something in the tone&mdash;something in the words&mdash;struck a note of surprise
+and uneasiness. Again Bale-Corphew shot a swift glance at Norov, and old
+Michael Arian lifted his head and strained his sightless eyes towards
+the Throne, while Enid's hands tightened spasmodically on the back of
+the chair in front of her, and her lips parted in new fear. What was he
+going to say? How much further was he going to compromise himself? But
+the body of the congregation<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> swayed forward in absorbed attention, and
+the Prophet continued to survey the fixed faces with grave, steady eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"My People," he said, "you are an unusual gathering. Some would call you
+a gathering of fanatics&mdash;some might even call you a gathering of fools.
+But fools, fanatics, or Mystics, you are all men and women. You are all
+human beings!"</p>
+
+<p>Old Arian started, and Norov's cold, blue eyes flashed; but still the
+Prophet was oblivious of their emotion.</p>
+
+<p>"It is always well to study one's own kind; and to-night I am going to
+speak to you of a man. I am going to tell you the story of a man&mdash;a man
+as passionate, as headstrong, as weak and vulnerable as you yourselves."
+He halted for a moment, and his glance seemed to grow more concentrated,
+more intense.</p>
+
+<p>"Once, many years ago, there was a boy born here, in this city of
+London. Don't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> lose patience! My story has the merit of truth.</p>
+
+<p>"There was nothing pleasant, there was nothing easy, in the
+circumstances of this boy's birth. His first sight of the world was
+gained through the window of a tenement-house, and the picture he saw
+was the picture of an alley&mdash;dark, foul, teeming with life. His first
+knowledge of existence was the realization of poverty&mdash;not the free,
+wholesome poverty of the country, but the grinding, sordid, continuous
+poverty of the town, that no tongue can adequately describe.</p>
+
+<p>"These were his surroundings&mdash;this was his environment; and yet&mdash;so
+great are the miracles that love can accomplish&mdash;every day of that boy's
+life was illumined and glorified by one presence. God in his bounty had
+given him a mother!"</p>
+
+<p>It was the first time in any discourse that he had mentioned the supreme
+Name, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> as if conscious of the tremor it aroused, he continued his
+narrative without pause.</p>
+
+<p>"To say that a boy's life is made happier by his mother's existence
+sounds too trite and obvious to bear any weight; but it is through the
+obvious facts of life that the world's machinery is kept in motion. The
+inexpressible, unwearying tenderness of this mother for her son, the
+love of this boy for his mother, grew with the passage of time&mdash;grew
+into something so significant, so vital and so deep, that even the
+poisonous atmosphere of the alley could not thwart its growth.</p>
+
+<p>"This feeling grew in the boy's heart; and with it&mdash;by a necessary law
+of nature&mdash;another feeling took root and grew also. Fired by stories of
+a past, in which wealth and position had been won by his forefathers, he
+conceived the idea of becoming in his own person a hero&mdash;a
+knight-errant. And in the grimy, common alley; in the poor,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> bare
+sitting-room where his mother sewed unendingly; in the dark closet under
+the slates where at night he dreamed his child's dreams, he built
+castles such as never stood upon the hills of Spain!</p>
+
+<p>"The germ of his ambition fell into his soul like a seed of fire; and,
+like a seed of fire, sprang into a flame. At whatever price&mdash;at whatever
+sacrifice&mdash;there must be a golden future, in which the mother he adored
+would sit in high places; in which the worn hands would never ply a
+needle except for pastime, the frail figure grow straight and strong,
+the pale face warm and brighten with the colors of health!</p>
+
+<p>"It was a very humble, a very young ambition, but it sprang from the
+true, clean source of untainted love, like which there is nothing else
+in all the world." He paused; and from his grave voice it seemed that a
+wave of emotion passed across the chapel. The congregation, too
+fascinated by his words<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> to question their meaning, drew a sigh of rapt
+anticipation. Enid, amazed, bewildered, moved beyond herself, sat
+immovable&mdash;her face pale, her great eyes fixed upon the Throne. Only the
+six Arch-Mystics stirred uneasily, glancing at each other with quiet,
+uncertain looks.</p>
+
+<p>Presently, as though he had marshalled his ideas for the continuation of
+his speech, the Prophet raised his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"My People," he began, again, "do not think that I am going to compel
+you to listen to a psychological discourse upon this boy's development.
+That is not my intention. But were I to hold up a picture for your
+inspection, you could not properly appreciate it were you ignorant of
+the art of drawing. And so it is with my story. To understand the
+completed work, you must understand the manner of its growth.</p>
+
+<p>"Though this boy lived in obscurity, he was bound by one link with the
+great things<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> of the world. But for the unjust disinheritance of his
+father, he would have been heir to a vast property; and through all his
+youth, this had been the golden mirage that had floated before his
+vision&mdash;this had been the fabled country from which his castle rose.
+Steadily, unfalteringly, one idea had expanded in his mind. By some
+brave action&mdash;by some deed of heroism&mdash;he was to win back the lost
+inheritance.</p>
+
+<p>"Time passed. And with its passage the wheel of fate revolved. By one of
+those strange chances for which no man can account, the opportunity that
+the boy longed for fell across his path.</p>
+
+<p>"It came. But it came enveloped in no cloud of glory. The path to the
+lost inheritance was steep and rugged and dark. He was called upon to
+leave his mother; to leave the place that, however sordid, however mean,
+was yet his home; and to enter upon a period of servitude with an
+unknown master&mdash;a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> man related to him by blood, whom report described as
+an eccentric&mdash;a miser&mdash;a madman."</p>
+
+<p>As he said these words a curious thing occurred. A wave of color flushed
+old Arian's sightless face; an inarticulate sound escaped him, and he
+made a tremulous attempt to rise. But the movement was instantly checked
+by Bale-Corphew, who bent close to him and whispered quickly in his ear.</p>
+
+<p>Neither gesture nor whisper was noted by the Prophet. His own face had
+paled as if with some deep emotion; and lowering his raised hand, he
+spoke again with a new, suppressed intensity.</p>
+
+<p>"Then began the vital period of that boy's career. He left his home&mdash;he
+left the mother he loved&mdash;he went into voluntary exile, animated by one
+purpose. Remember that, my People! He went into the service of this man
+animated by one purpose&mdash;the determination<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> to win back his rightful
+fortune! And for seven weary years he continued his pursuit. For the
+seven most vital years of his youth he suppressed every instinct that
+animates a boy!</p>
+
+<p>"He worked more laboriously than the laborer in the fields, for mental
+servitude is more galling to the young than any physical strain. But he
+never faltered; and at last he had the pride of knowing that his end was
+gained&mdash;he had the pride of knowing that he had become indispensable to
+the master whom he served!" Again he paused, but this time the pause was
+of impressive weight. Unconsciously, and without analyzing the feeling,
+every member of the congregation felt that some announcement was
+pending&mdash;that some extraordinary revelation was about to be made.</p>
+
+<p>Enid sat rigid, holding her breath in an agony of suspense, fascinated
+and appalled by the incomprehensible discourse. Behind<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> the high
+railing, old Michael Arian's lips moved rapidly and nervously, as though
+he were muttering inaudible prayers; while Bale-Corphew's florid face
+flamed, as, with a rapid, agitated movement, he glanced over the tense
+faces of the congregation. For one moment it seemed that he was bracing
+himself for action, but before his intentions could bear fruit, the
+voice of the Prophet again rang out across the chapel.</p>
+
+<p>"My People!" he said. "It is now that I appeal to your humanity! It is
+now that I ask each one of you&mdash;men and women&mdash;to stand in this boy's
+place&mdash;this boy, built like yourselves of human desires, human hopes,
+human weaknesses. After seven long years he touched the knowledge that
+he had become indispensable; and the bearer of that knowledge was
+Death&mdash;his master's master!</p>
+
+<p>"Death came; and in his chill presence the boy saw his task
+completed&mdash;laid aside like a written scroll!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"It was the most glorious moment of his life&mdash;that moment in which he
+stood with unshaken faith, looking towards the future. But the darker
+side of existence was his portion; he had been born to the darker side.
+Within one hour of his master's death, his dreams were dispelled. He
+learned that, in the eyes of the man he had served, he had never passed
+beyond the position of the outcast&mdash;the dependent, whose services are
+liberally rewarded by the gift of a few hundred pounds. The fortune&mdash;the
+inheritance&mdash;the golden mirage, was no longer existent, save as
+something that did not concern him. By the disposition of his master's
+will, it had passed into the coffers of a religious body&mdash;a fantastic,
+unknown sect to which the old man had belonged!"</p>
+
+<p>The announcement fell with strange effect. Enid, inspired by sudden
+terror, rose to her feet; Bale-Corphew sat gripping the arm of his
+chair, his face contorted, his mouth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> working, while a rustle, an
+audible murmur of excitement passed over the whole chapel, and the
+Precursor, who all along had been crouching at the foot of the throne,
+turned quickly and anxiously towards his master.</p>
+
+<p>But the Prophet reassured him by a gesture. It seemed that he was
+exalted by some emotion, lifted above his surroundings by some invisible
+power.</p>
+
+<p>"Put yourselves in this boy's place!" he cried. "Was there ever a
+position so intensely human? The thing he had striven for&mdash;the thing he
+needed inordinately&mdash;had been wrenched from him by a band of people who,
+in his eyes, were either fools or knaves. What would you have done in
+his position? What would have been your impulse? What your instinct? If
+I know anything of human nature, it would have been the same as
+his&mdash;precisely, accurately the same as his!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"He had known for years of this sect to which his master belonged; and
+for years he had held it in contempt. In his normal, youthful eyes, the
+idea of a creed that denied the high, simple theory of Christianity, and
+awaited the coming of a mythical Prophet was a subject for healthy
+scorn. And now suddenly it was forced upon his understanding that this
+an&aelig;mic sect&mdash;this mystical, anticipated Prophet&mdash;were his rivals&mdash;the
+despoilers of his private intimate hopes.</p>
+
+<p>"Such a knowledge has power to work a miracle; and in one single night
+it changed this boy into a man. Embittered, hopeless, stranded,
+inspiration came to him. He conceived the tremendous idea of entering
+upon a new fight&mdash;a second quest of the great inheritance. He conceived
+the idea; and standing, as it were, upon a different plane of life, he
+saw&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>But the Prophet got no further. With a gesture of violent excitement,
+Bale-Corphew<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> rose; at the same instant the Precursor sprang to his feet
+and stood in a defensive attitude before the Throne.</p>
+
+<p>The whole scene was enacted in a second. Enid, grasping its full
+meaning, turned very white and dropped back into her seat, while the
+whole congregation strained forward in unanimous amazement and
+curiosity.</p>
+
+<p>And then, for the first time, the hot, angry glance of Bale-Corphew met
+that of the Prophet. He glared at him for one moment in speechless rage,
+then he turned to the people.</p>
+
+<p>"Mystics!" he cried, in a choked voice. "In accordance with a solemn
+duty, I&mdash;I proclaim this man to be&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>But before he could proceed the Precursor interrupted.</p>
+
+<p>"People! Mystics!" he cried, raising his penetrating voice. "Is this
+right? Is this permissible?"</p>
+
+<p>A murmur rose from the chapel.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Bale-Corphew's face became purple.</p>
+
+<p>"People! hear me!" he exclaimed. "This man is no Prophet. He is an
+impostor! A fraud! I have proof. I can give you proof!"</p>
+
+<p>Of the extraordinary effect of these words Enid&mdash;crouching helplessly in
+her seat&mdash;saw nothing. All her senses were riveted upon one object&mdash;the
+tall, calm figure upon the steps of the Throne. By the power of
+intuition, rather than by physical observation, she saw the look of
+intense surprise, of incredulity merging to dismay, that crossed the
+Prophet's face at the Arch-Mystic's words. And at the sight the real
+meaning of his incomprehensible discourse passed over her mind in a wave
+of incredulous admiration. Believing himself secure in his position, he
+had voluntarily chosen to denounce himself.</p>
+
+<p>That was her first thought as the matter became clear to her; but a
+chilling second thought followed sharp upon it. What would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> be the
+Prophet's reading of Bale-Corphew's knowledge? Would not one
+solution&mdash;and one only&mdash;present itself to his mind? The idea that she
+had betrayed his confidence. With the horror of the suggestion an
+ungovernable impulse filled her&mdash;an impulse to rise&mdash;to go to him&mdash;sweep
+the doubt from his mind. But an instant later the merely egotistical
+thought was obliterated by the greater issues that filled the moment.</p>
+
+<p>After Bale-Corphew had spoken an uproar&mdash;a clamor&mdash;had suddenly filled
+the chapel; and now the rapt concourse of people had become as a
+turbulent sea. The Precursor, pale with intense nervous excitement,
+stood vainly striving to make his voice heard; while Bale-Corphew,
+closely surrounded by his fellow-Mystics, gesticulated violently.</p>
+
+<p>At last the Prophet raised his hand; and by habit and training, the
+people subsided into silence.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Instantly Bale-Corphew's voice rang out.</p>
+
+<p>"Listen!" he cried; "listen!"</p>
+
+<p>But again the Precursor interrupted.</p>
+
+<p>"People," he demanded, "will you refuse the Prophet the right of speech?
+Will you refuse to hear the Prophet's words?"</p>
+
+<p>"This is sacrilege! Sacrilege!" Norov suddenly raised his voice. "Listen
+to your Councillor!"</p>
+
+<p>"Listen to the Prophet! The Voice of the Prophet calls upon you. Will
+you deny it?" The Precursor's voice shook with excitement.</p>
+
+<p>"This is the truth! I tell you the truth!" Bale-Corphew appealed to the
+people with out-stretched arms.</p>
+
+<p>But the tumult broke forth again.</p>
+
+<p>"Mystics! Mystics!" Old Arian's shrill, alarmed tones rose for an
+instant, only to be drowned in the clamor.</p>
+
+<p>Then out of the confused babel of sound one cry became distinguishable.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"The Prophet! The Prophet! Let the Prophet speak!"</p>
+
+<p>For a space confusion reigned; then, answering to the demand, the
+Prophet again lifted his right hand.</p>
+
+<p>As though it exercised some potent spell, his calm, imperious gesture
+subdued the turmoil. When silence had been restored he began to speak;
+and never, since he had addressed the first Gathering, had so deep a
+note of domination and decision been audible in his voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Mystics!" he cried, "there is no time for preamble or delay. As the
+Arch-Mystic says, you must have truth! Perhaps there is no need to tell
+you that the history I have just related to you has an imminent bearing
+upon your lives and mine. You probably know, without my telling, that
+the boy of my story and I are one and the same person; that the fanatic
+sect, for which I was made a beggar, is your own sect&mdash;the sect of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span>
+Mystics. But so it is. On a wild, dark night ten years ago I learned
+that the money which should have been mine&mdash;the money which should have
+been the recompense for my mother's hard life&mdash;had been given to you.
+Given for the use of a Prophet in whose coming you believed!</p>
+
+<p>"My feelings on that night were the criminal feelings that underlie all
+civilization. I had only one desire&mdash;to destroy&mdash;to be avenged. My
+uncle, Andrew Henderson, was an Arch-Mystic of your sect; and on the
+night he died, your sacred Scitsym was in his house!"</p>
+
+<p>The congregation thrilled, and the blind Arch-Councillor turned and
+clutched Bale-Corphew's arm.</p>
+
+<p>"My first impulse was to destroy that book. Look at it, look at it!" He
+pointed to the lectern. "Ten years ago, I knelt before a fire with its
+pages in my hand, and black thoughts of revenge in my heart. But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> the
+devil of temptation lurks in strange places. In the very act of
+destruction, an inspiration came to me. A man was expected! A Prophet
+was expected! And in the pages of the Scitsym were contained the
+attributes, the secret signs, the manifold ways in which he was to make
+good his claim.</p>
+
+<p>"I come of an obstinate stock&mdash;of a stock that in the past has overcome
+many obstacles. That night I copied out the whole of your Scitsym, and
+afterwards, as soon as I reasonably could, I left Scotland.</p>
+
+<p>"I went at once to my mother; I told her that, according to the
+disposition of my uncle's will, I was to inherit his fortune in ten
+years' time, and that in the interval I was to fit myself for wealth by
+profound study. It was the first time in all my life that I had lied to
+her!</p>
+
+<p>"But to come to the end, your Prophet was to be a student of Eastern
+lore. With this knowledge in my mind, I started with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> my mother for the
+East. What has happened since then is immaterial. My second probation
+has been as hard as my first. But I accomplished two things. I fitted
+myself mentally and physically for the part I was going to play, and I
+made one stanch, wholly disinterested friend!" With a gesture of grave
+affection, he indicated the Precursor.</p>
+
+<p>In the opportunity that the slight pause gave, Bale-Corphew sprang
+forward and, resting his hands upon the Sanctuary railing, faced the
+congregation.</p>
+
+<p>"People!" he cried, hoarsely, "be not deceived! This man pretends to
+tell you what he is. He is blinding you&mdash;weaving a bandage of specious
+words across your eyes. But I will undeceive you. I will tear the
+bandage&mdash;" He hesitated, stammered, paused.</p>
+
+<p>With a movement full of fire, full of authority, the Prophet stepped
+from the Throne.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Silence!" he cried. "There is no need for interference. This matter is
+between the People and myself." With a pale face and burning eyes he
+stepped forward, and standing beside the Arch-Mystic confronted the
+congregation.</p>
+
+<p>"I will tell you everything that this man would tell you," he said, in a
+steady voice. "I believe I will even use the word he himself would
+choose. I am a thief! I am a thief&mdash;in intention if not in act!"</p>
+
+<p>The effect of the word was tremendous. A perfectly audible gasp went up
+from the breathless crowd; and, by one accord, the people rose and
+swayed upward towards the Sanctuary.</p>
+
+<p>Calm and immovable as a rock, the Prophet held his place.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," he said, steadily, "until this morning I have virtually been a
+thief. Until this morning it was my firm intention to take by force that
+which should have come to me as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> my right. The fact that my intention
+faltered at the last moment does not affect the case. I wish to make no
+appeal. My desire"&mdash;his voice suddenly quickened&mdash;"my desire is plainly
+and simply to state my case.</p>
+
+<p>"Morally I have done you no wrong. My teaching has been the expounding
+of simple truths, that my personal action could not desecrate. I stand
+before you to-night empty-handed as I came. The one thing I claim from
+you is judgment!</p>
+
+<p>"Judge me! I am in your hands. If you think I deserve punishment, punish
+me! If you think circumstances have made me what I am, then stand aside!
+Let me pass out of your lives!"</p>
+
+<p>There was a great silence; then a woman's sharp cry rang out across the
+chapel, as, with a savage movement, three of the Arch-Mystics sprang
+upon the Prophet.</p>
+
+<p>"Sacrilege! Sacrilege!" Bale-Corphew's voice rose loud and violent.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But he had calculated without his host. The fanaticism of a crowd is a
+dangerous weapon with which to tamper, and the dethronement of a king is
+not accomplished in a day. With the speed of light, the element he had
+unloosed turned upon himself.</p>
+
+<p>Again one word disentangled itself from the medley of sounds.</p>
+
+<p>"The Prophet! The Prophet!" Like an ignited fuse, instinct had been
+lighted in the people. The man who for months had been
+exalted&mdash;honored&mdash;well-nigh worshipped&mdash;was in imminent peril! That one
+thought submerged and demolished every other.</p>
+
+<p>There was a forward movement&mdash;a roar&mdash;a crash&mdash;and the high, gilt
+railings of the Sanctuary went down as before a storm.</p>
+
+<p>To Enid, who had been borne irresistibly upward on the human tide, there
+was one overpowering moment of fear and clamor, in which the cry of "The
+Prophet! The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> Prophet!" dominated her consciousness; then, to her, the
+world became suddenly and mercifully sightless, soundless, and void.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>When at last her eyes opened&mdash;when at last her senses falteringly
+returned to the consciousness of present things&mdash;she was in her own
+familiar room. The atmosphere breathed of repose and peace; through the
+drawn curtains the hum of London came subdued and soothing; in the room
+itself the lights were modulated and the fire glowed soft and mellow,
+while a faint, pungent smell of restoratives filled the air. But these
+details came but vaguely to her appreciation, for the first object upon
+which her glance and her ideas rested was the figure of John Henderson,
+kneeling beside the couch on which she lay.</p>
+
+<p>For a long, silent space she gazed bewildered into the grave face bent
+over her own&mdash;striving to fathom whether this was another<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> phase of an
+extraordinarily prolonged and harassing dream, or whether it had any
+bearing upon real life; then, as the pained, bewildered sensation
+deepened in her mind, it was suddenly illumined by a flash of
+recollection; and starting up, she caught Henderson's hand.</p>
+
+<p>But before she could speak he laid his fingers gently over her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"You are not to think," he said. "To-night is past."</p>
+
+<p>"But Hellier Crescent? What happened after&mdash;after&mdash;?"</p>
+
+<p>Again he made a soothing movement.</p>
+
+<p>"You must not think of it. They gathered round me. They were generous.
+They heaped coals of fire."</p>
+
+<p>Enid lay silent, conscious with a keen yet poignant pleasure of his hand
+upon her face. Then suddenly a new thought obtruded itself, and drawing
+away his fingers, she looked up into his face.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"And after to-night&mdash;?" she said, in a low, unsteady voice.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment he did not answer, and in the soft light it seemed to her
+that a shadow of pain passed over his face.</p>
+
+<p>Again she put out her hand and touched his.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you going to do?" she asked, below her breath.</p>
+
+<p>At last he raised his head and looked fully at her.</p>
+
+<p>"I am going back to the East. The hardest task of my life is awaiting me
+there. It is a very bitter thing to disillusionize the person to whom
+one is a hero."</p>
+
+<p>She looked at him quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"You are speaking of your mother? You are thinking of your mother?"</p>
+
+<p>He bent his head.</p>
+
+<p>For a space neither spoke. Vaguely, and in distant accompaniment to
+their thoughts, each was conscious of the hum of traffic and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> of the
+softly crackling fire; then at last Enid stirred, and with a gesture
+full of comprehension, her fingers closed round Henderson's.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me tell her the story!" she said, almost inaudibly. "Take me with
+you&mdash;and let me tell her! We are both women, and&mdash;" Her head drooped
+slightly; and her face flushed. "And we both love you."</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MYSTICS***</p>
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Mystics, by Katherine Cecil Thurston
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Mystics
+       A Novel
+
+
+Author: Katherine Cecil Thurston
+
+
+
+Release Date: April 17, 2007  [eBook #21127]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MYSTICS***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Storm, and the Project Gutenberg Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 21127-h.htm or 21127-h.zip:
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/1/1/2/21127/21127-h/21127-h.htm)
+      or
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/1/1/2/21127/21127-h.zip)
+
+
+
+
+
+THE MYSTICS
+
+A Novel
+
+by
+
+KATHERINE CECIL THURSTON
+
+Author of
+"The Masquerader" "The Gambler"
+
+Illustrated
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: See Chap. VII "THE PROPHET WITH HIS FIXED GAZE UPON THE
+SCITSYM"]
+
+
+
+Harper & Brothers Publishers
+New York and London
+MCMVII
+
+Copyright, 1904, by Katherine Cecil Thurston.
+All rights reserved.
+Published April, 1907.
+
+
+
+
+                 To my Cousin
+              Nancy Inez Pollock
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+   "THE PROPHET WITH HIS FIXED GAZE UPON THE SCITSYM" _Frontispiece_
+
+   "THE FIGURE OF HIS UNCLE ... SHOWED TALL AND
+   ANGULAR IN THE APERTURE"                           _Facing p._ 20
+
+   "HE ... GATHERED THE FIRST SHEAF OF LEAVES INTO
+   HIS FINGERS"                                            "      40
+
+   "ACROSS THE PROPHET'S BREAST, IN MARKS OF A CRUEL
+   LACERATION, RAN THE SYMBOLIC OCTAGONAL FIGURE OF
+   THE MYSTIC SECT"                                        "      56
+
+   "WITH A FRESH BURST OF TEARS, SHE TURNED AND FLUNG
+   HERSELF UPON THE COUCH"                                 "     116
+
+   "HER HAND WAS TREMBLING AS SHE RAISED THE HEAVY
+   KNOCKER"                                                "     136
+
+   "'I AM IN NEED OF HELP ... AND YOU CAN HELP ME'"        "     146
+
+   "SHE SAW THE FIGURE OF THE PROPHET ... ATTENDED BY
+   THE PRECURSOR AND THE SIX ARCH-MYSTICS"                 "     158
+
+
+
+
+THE MYSTICS
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+Of all the sensations to which the human mind is a prey, there is none
+so powerful in its finality, so chilling in its sense of an impending
+event as the knowledge that Death--grim, implacable Death--has cast his
+shadow on a life that custom and circumstance have rendered familiar.
+Whatever the personal feeling may be--whether dismay, despair, or
+relief--no man or woman can watch that advancing shadow without a
+quailing at the heart, an individual shrinking from the terrible,
+natural mystery that we must all face in turn--each for himself and each
+alone.
+
+In a gaunt house on the loneliest point where the Scottish coast
+overlooks the Irish Sea, John Henderson was watching his uncle die. In
+the plain, whitewashed room where the sick man lay, a fire was burning
+and a couple of oil-lamps shed an uncertain glow; but outside, the wind
+roared inland from the shore, and the rain splashed in furious showers
+against the windows of the house. It was a night of tumult and darkness;
+but neither the old man who lay waiting for the end nor the young man
+who watched that end approaching gave any heed to the turmoil of the
+elements. Each was self-engrossed.
+
+Except for an occasional rasping cough, or a slow, indrawn breath, no
+sign came from the small iron bedstead on which the dying man lay. His
+hard, emaciated face was set in an impenetrable mask; his glazed eyes
+were fixed immovably on a distant portion of the ceiling; and his hands
+lay clasped upon his breast, covering some object that depended from
+his neck.
+
+He had lain thus since the doctor from the neighboring town had braved
+the rising storm and ridden over to see him in the fall of the evening;
+and no accentuation of the gale that lashed the house, no increase in
+the roar of the ocean three hundred yards away, had power to interrupt
+his lethargy.
+
+In curious contrast was the expression that marked his nephew's face. An
+extraordinary suppressed energy was visible in every line of John
+Henderson's body as he sat crouching over the fire; and a look of
+irrepressible excitement smoldered in the eyes that gazed into the
+glowing coals. He was barely twenty-three years old, but the
+self-control that comes from endurance and privation sat unmistakably on
+his knitted brows and closed lips. He was neither handsome of feature
+nor graceful of figure, yet there was something more striking and
+interesting than either grace or beauty in the strong, youthful form
+and the strong, intelligent face. For a long time he retained his
+crouching seat on the wooden stool that stood before the hearth; then at
+last the activity at work within his mind made further inaction
+intolerable. He rose and turned towards the bed.
+
+The dying man lay motionless, awaiting the final summons with that
+aloofness that suggests a spirit already partially extricated from its
+covering of flesh. His glassy eyes were still fixed and immovable save
+for an occasional twitching of the eyelids; his pallid lips were drawn
+back from his strong, prominent teeth; and the skin about his temples
+looked shrivelled and sallow. The doctor's parting words came sharply to
+the younger man's mind.
+
+"Sit still and watch him--you can do no more."
+
+He reiterated this injunction many times mentally as he stood
+contemplating the man who for seven interminable years had ruled,
+repressed, and worked him as he might have worked a well-constructed,
+manageable machine; and a sudden rush of joy, of freedom and recompense
+flooded his heart and set his pulses throbbing. He momentarily lost
+sight of the grim shadow hovering over the house. The sense of
+emancipation rose tumultuously, over-ruling even the immense solemnity
+of approaching Death.
+
+John Henderson had known little of the easy, pleasant paths of
+life, carpeted by wealth and sheltered by influence. His most
+childish and distant recollections carried him back to days of
+anxious poverty. His father, the elder son of a wealthy Scottish
+landowner, had quarrelled with his father, and at the age of
+twenty left his home, disinherited in favor of his younger brother.
+Possessed of a peculiar temperament--passionate, headstrong, dogged
+in his resolves, he had shaken the dust of Scotland from his feet;
+sworn never to be beholden to either father or brother for the
+fraction of a penny, and had gone out into the world to seek his
+fortune. But the fortune had been far to seek. For years he had
+followed the sea; for years he had toiled on land; but in every
+undertaking failure stalked him. Finally, at the age of fifty, he
+touched success for the first time. He fell in love and found his
+love returned. But here again the irony of fate was constant in its
+pursuit. The object of his choice was the daughter of an artist, a
+man as needy, as entirely unfortunate as he himself.
+
+But love at fifty is sometimes as blind as love at twenty-five. With an
+improvidence that belied his nationality, Alick Henderson married after
+a courtship as brief as it was happy. For a year he shared the
+hap-hazard life of his wife and father-in-law; then Nature saw fit to
+alter the small _menage_. The artist died, and almost at the same time
+little John was born.
+
+With the coming of the child, Henderson conceived a new impetus and also
+a new sense of bitterness and self-reproach. A homeless failure may
+tramp the face of the earth and feel no shame; but the unsuccessful man
+who is a husband and a father moves upon a different plane. He has
+ties--responsibilities--something for which he must answer to himself.
+
+There is pathos in the picture of a man setting forth at fifty-one to
+conquer the world anew; and its grim futility is not good to look upon.
+Henderson had failed for himself, and he failed equally for others. The
+years that followed his marriage were but the unwinding of a pitifully
+old story. Before his boy was ten years old he had run the gamut of
+humiliation; he had done everything that the pinch of poverty could
+demand, except apply for aid to his brother Andrew. This even the
+faithful, patient wife who had stood stanch in all his trials never
+dared to suggest.
+
+In this atmosphere John learned to look upon life. A naturally
+high-spirited and courageous child, he gradually fell under that spell
+of premature understanding that is the portion of a mind forced too soon
+to realize the significance of ways and means. Day by day his serious
+eyes grew to comprehend the lines that marked his mother's beloved face;
+to know the cost at which his own education, his own wants, were
+supplied by the tired, silent father, who, despite his shabby clothes
+and prematurely broken air, seemed perpetually to move in the glamour of
+a past romance; and gradually, steadily, passionately, as these things
+came home to him, there grew up in his youthful mind a desire to
+compensate by his own future for the struggle he daily witnessed.
+
+Many were the nights when--his lessons for the next day finished, and
+his father away at one of the many precarious tasks that kept the
+household together--he would draw close to his mother, as she sat
+industriously sewing, and beg her for the hundredth time to recount the
+story of the grim Scotch home where his father had lost his birthright;
+of the stern old grandfather who had died inexorably unforgiving; of the
+unknown uncle of whom rumor told many eccentric stories. And, roused by
+the recital, his boyish face would flush, his boyish mind leap forward
+towards the future.
+
+"'Twill all come back, mother!" he would cry. "'Twill all come back!
+I'll win it back!"
+
+And, with a sobbing laugh, his mother would drop her sewing and draw him
+to her heart in a sudden yearning of love and pride.
+
+In such surroundings and in such an atmosphere he passed sixteen years;
+then the first upheaval of his life took place. His father died.
+
+His first recollection--when the terrible necessities of the event were
+past, and his own grief and consternation had partially subsided--was
+the remembrance of his mother calling him to her room; of her kissing
+him, crying over him and telling him of the resolve she had taken to
+write and make known his existence to his uncle in Scotland.
+
+The confession at first overwhelmed him. His own pride, his sense of
+loyalty to his father's memory prompted him to cry out against the idea
+as against a sacrilege. Then slowly his boyish, immature mind grasped
+something of the nobility that prompted the decision--something of the
+inexpressible love that counted sentiment and personal dignity as
+nothing beside his own future; and in a passion of gratitude he flung
+his arms about his mother, repeating the old childish vows with a new
+and deeper force.
+
+So the letter to Scotland was despatched; and a time of sharp suspense
+followed for mother and son. Then, one never-to-be-forgotten day, the
+answer arrived.
+
+Andrew Henderson wrote unemotionally. He expressed formal regret for his
+brother's death, but evinced no interest in his sister-in-law's
+position. He briefly described himself as living an isolated life in a
+small house on the sea-coast, a dozen miles from the family home which
+had remained untenanted since his father's death. He admitted that with
+advancing years the duties of life had begun to weigh upon him,
+diverting his mind and time from the graver pursuits to which his life
+was devoted; finally he grudgingly suggested that, should his nephew
+care to undertake the duties of secretary at a salary of sixty pounds a
+year, he might find a home with him.
+
+The immediate feeling that followed the reading of the letter was
+fraught with chilling disappointment. On the moment, pride again
+asserted itself, urging a swift refusal of the rich man's proposal; then
+once more the patience that had kept Mrs. Henderson brave and gentle
+during seventeen years of wearing poverty made itself felt. All thought
+of personal grievance faded from her mind as she pointed out the urgent
+necessity of John's being seen and known by this uncle, whose only
+relation and ostensible heir he was. She talked for long, wisely and
+kindly--as mothers talk out of the unselfish fulness of their
+hearts--and with every word the golden castles of her imagination rose
+tower on tower to form the citadel in which her son was to reign
+supreme.
+
+So wisely and so lovingly did she talk that she persuaded not only the
+boy, but herself, into the belief that he had but to reach Scotland to
+make his inheritance sure; and before the day closed she wrote to Andrew
+Henderson accepting his offer. A week later the whole light of her life
+went out, as she watched the train steam out of the station, carrying
+John northward.
+
+Upon the days that followed his arrival in Scotland there is no need to
+dwell. He came as a stranger, and as a stranger he was introduced by
+his uncle to the routine of work expected of him. No mention was made of
+his recent loss, no suggestion was given that his mother should make her
+double bereavement easier by visits to her son. Whatever of hope or
+sentiment he had brought with him, he was left to destroy or smother as
+best he could.
+
+The first week resolved itself into one round of boyish homesickness and
+desolation; then gradually, as the marvellous healing properties of
+youth began to stir, a new feeling awakened in his mind--a sense of
+curiosity concerning the strange old man whom fate, by a twist of the
+wheel, had made the arbiter of his life. Even to one so young and
+inexperienced, it was impossible to know Andrew Henderson and not to
+feel that some strange peculiarity set him apart from other men. In his
+ascetic face, in his large, light-blue eyes, in his extraordinary air of
+abstraction and aloofness from mundane things, there was something that
+fascinated and repelled; and with a wondering interest the boy studied
+these things, trying in his unformed way to reconcile them with his
+narrow experience of human nature.
+
+For many weeks he sought without success for some key to the attitude of
+this new-found relative. Then one evening--when solution seemed least
+near--the key, metaphorically speaking, fell at his feet. Returning home
+from a ramble over the headland, his observant eye was caught by the
+sight of a narrow foot-track that, crossing the main pathway of the
+cliff, wound steeply upward and seemingly lost itself in a tangle of
+gorse and bracken. Stirred by a boyish desire for exploration, he
+paused, turned into this obscure track, and incontinently began its
+ascent.
+
+For some hundreds of yards it led upward in a sharp incline; and with
+its added steepness, the ardor of the explorer warmed. With impetuous
+haste he climbed the last dozen yards; when, as the anticipated summit
+was reached, he halted in abrupt, dismayed surprise; for with alarming
+suddenness the land broke off short, disclosing a deep gap or fissure,
+carpeted with heather and surrounded by natural protecting walls of
+rock, in the centre of which was set a miniature chapel built of dark
+stone.
+
+At sight of the little edifice, he thrilled with adventurous surprise.
+There was something mysterious, something almost fine in the sight of
+the small temple, with the setting sun gleaming on its solid walls, its
+low, massive door and round window of thick stained glass. He leaned out
+over the shelving rock, staring down upon it with wide, astonished eyes;
+then the natural instinct of the boy overtopped every other feeling.
+With a quick-movement of excitement and expectation, he began to descend
+into the hollow.
+
+But though he walked round the little building a dozen times, shook the
+heavy door and peered ineffectually into the opaque window, nothing
+rewarded his curiosity, and after half an hour of diligent endeavor he
+was compelled to return home no wiser than when he had first stood on
+the summit of the path and looked down into the rocky cleft.
+
+All that evening, however, the thought of his discovery remained with
+him. At the eight-o'clock supper of porridge, vegetables, and fruit
+which he shared with his uncle, he chafed under the silence of his
+companion and at the air of calm indifference that the whitewashed room
+with its raftered ceiling seemed to wear; and it was with a sigh of
+satisfaction that he rose from table and bade his uncle a formal
+good-night.
+
+With the same suggestion of relief, he watched the old man light his
+candle and ascend the bare stairs to his own room; then prompted by the
+impulse he never neglected, he went into the study to write the daily
+letter that made his mother's existence bearable.
+
+He wrote for nearly an hour, omitting no detail of the evening's
+discovery. Then, as he closed and sealed the letter, a clock on the
+mantel-piece struck ten. The sound had an oddly hollow and chilly effect
+in the bare, carpetless room; and unconsciously he raised his head and
+glanced about him. His ideas, still stirred by his adventure, were more
+prone than usual to the suggestion of outward things; and for almost the
+first time since his arrival, he felt drawn to study his intimate
+surroundings. With a new curiosity he let his eyes wander from the
+severe book-shelves to the ugly iron safe that stood in the most
+prominent position in the room; and from the safe his glance turned to
+the revolving bookcase by his uncle's favorite chair, in which lay the
+volumes that were in daily use. Following an impulse he had never
+previously been conscious of, he crossed the room, and drawing three
+books, at hap-hazard from the case, studied their titles.
+
+_The Indissoluble Essence_, he read; _The Soul in Relation to the Human
+Mind_; _The Mystic Influence_.
+
+He stood for a space gazing at the sombre covers, but making no attempt
+to dip into their pages; then a sudden look of comprehension sprang into
+his eyes. The oddly built stone chapel took on a new and more personal
+meaning. With a quick gesture he thrust the books back into their place,
+extinguished the lamp, and softly left the room. Gaining the hall, he
+did not turn towards the stairs; but tiptoeing to the table, picked up
+his cap, crossed the hall noiselessly and opened the outer door.
+
+The warmth of the August day was still heavy on the air as he stepped
+into the open; a great copper-colored moon hung low over the sea, and a
+soft, filmy haze lay over both land and water. Without hesitation he
+turned into the cliff path, and followed it until his quick eyes caught
+the indistinct foot-track that he had discovered earlier in the evening.
+With the same decision, the same suggestion of anticipation, he stepped
+rapidly forward and once more began the sharp ascent.
+
+The impetus of his curiosity carried him forward; he mounted the path in
+hot haste; then, as he gained the summit, he halted again, but in new
+surprise. In the hazy, mellow moonlight, the small building stood out
+sharp and dark as on his previous visit, but from the round,
+stained-glass window a flood of light--crimson, rose-color, and
+gold--poured out into the night.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+In the first moment of astonishment, John stood motionless, his gaze
+riveted on the glow of color that poured through the window upon the
+rocks and heather of the cleft. Then, as he continued to stand with
+widely opened eyes, another surprise was sprung upon him. The door of
+the chapel opened and the figure of his uncle--long since supposed to be
+sleeping tranquilly in his own room--showed tall and angular in the
+aperture.
+
+[Illustration: "THE FIGURE OF HIS UNCLE ... SHOWED TALL AND ANGULAR IN
+THE APERTURE"]
+
+From John's position, the open door and the lighted interior of the
+little edifice were distinctly visible; and in one glance he saw his
+uncle's silhouetted figure and behind it a bare space some dozen feet
+square, lined on floor and walls with sections of marble alternately
+black and white. From the ceiling of this chamber depended an
+octagonal symbol in polished metal, and close by the door eight wax
+candles flickered slightly in the faint stir of air. But his astonished
+and inquisitive eyes had barely become aware of these details when
+Andrew Henderson turned towards the circular sconce in which the candles
+were set and began to extinguish them one by one. As the light died, he
+stepped forward and John drew back sharply; but at his movement a stone,
+loosened by his heel, went rolling down into the hollow. And a moment
+later his uncle, glancing up, saw his figure outlined against the
+luminous sky.
+
+What the outcome of the incident would have been on any other occasion,
+it is difficult to say. As it was, the moment was propitious. Old
+Henderson, surprised in an instant of exaltation, was pleased to put his
+own narrow, superstitious construction on the boy's appearance. Laboring
+under an abnormal excitement, he showed no resentment at the fact of
+being spied upon; but calling John to him, ordered him to walk home
+beside him across the cliff.
+
+Never was walk so strange--never were companions so ill-matched as the
+two who threaded their way back over the headland. Andrew Henderson
+walked first, talking all the time in a jargon addressed partly to the
+boy, partly to himself, in which mysticism was oddly tangled with a
+confusion of crazy theories and beliefs; behind came John, half
+fascinated and wholly bewildered by the medley of words that poured out
+upon the night.
+
+On reaching the house, the old man became suddenly silent again, falling
+back as if by habit into the morose absorption that marked his daily
+life; but as he turned to mount the stairs to his own room, he paused
+and his curious light-blue eyes travelled over his nephew's face.
+
+"Good-night!" he said. "You make a good listener."
+
+And John--still confused and silent--retired to bed, to lie awake for
+many hours, partly thrilled and partly elated by the awesome thought
+that there was a madman in the house.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+But all that had happened seven years ago, and now Andrew Henderson lay
+waiting for his end. In those seven years John had passed through the
+mill of deadly monotony that saps even youth, and lulls every instinct
+save hope. The first enthusiasm of romance that had wrapped the
+discovery of his uncle's secret had faded out with time. By slow degrees
+he had learned--partly from his own observation, partly from the old
+man's occasional fanatic outbursts--that the strange chapel with its
+metal symbol and marble floor was not the outcome of a private whim, but
+the manifestation of a creed that boasted a small but ardent band of
+followers. He had learned that--to themselves, if not to the
+world--these devotees were known as the Mystics; that their articles of
+faith were preserved in a secret book designated the Scitsym, which
+passed in rotation each year from one to another of the six
+Arch-Mystics, remaining in the care of each for two months out of the
+twelve. He had discovered that London was the Centre of this sect; and
+that its fundamental belief was the anticipation of a mysterious
+prophet--human, and yet divinely inspired--by whose coming the light was
+to extend from the small and previously unknown band across the whole
+benighted world.
+
+He had learned all these things. He had been stirred to a passing awe by
+the discovery that his uncle was, in his own person, actually one of the
+profound Six who formed the Council of the sect and to whom alone the
+secrets of its creed were known; and for three successive years his
+interest and curiosity had been kindled when Andrew Henderson travelled
+to England and returned with the Arch-Councillor--an old blind man of
+seventy--who invariably spent one day and night mysteriously closeted
+with his host and then left, having deposited the sacred Scitsym with
+his own hands in the tall iron safe that stood in Henderson's study. But
+that annual excitement had lessened with time. Even a madman may become
+monotonous when we live with him, day in, day out, for seven long years;
+and gradually the attitude of John's mind had changed with the passage
+of time. The sense of adventure and triumphant enterprise had steadily
+receded; the knowledge that he was working out a slow, distasteful
+probation had advanced. Reluctantly and yet definitely he had realized
+that his position was not to come and conquer, but to watch and wait;
+and this consciousness of a tacitly expected end had grown with the
+years--with the growth of his mind and body. It was not that he was
+hard-natured. The regularity with which he despatched his yearly money
+to his mother--reserving the merest fraction for himself--precluded that
+idea. But he was young and human, and he was youthfully and humanly
+greedy to possess the good things of life for himself and for the one
+being he passionately loved. It would, indeed, have been an enthusiast
+in virtue who could have blamed him for counting upon dead men's shoes.
+
+And now the shoes were all but empty! He stood watching his uncle die!
+
+Having stayed almost motionless for several minutes, he glanced at the
+clock; then moved to the bed, taking a bottle and a medicine spoon from
+the dressing-table as he passed.
+
+"Time for your medicine, uncle!" he said, in his quiet, level voice.
+
+But the sick man did not seem to hear.
+
+In a slightly louder tone John repeated his remark. This time the vacant
+expression faded slowly from the large, pale eyes, and Andrew Henderson
+moved his head weakly.
+
+Seeing the indication of consciousness, John carefully measured out a
+dose of medicine, and, stooping over the pillows, passed one arm under
+his uncle's neck.
+
+Andrew Henderson submitted without objection, but as his head was raised
+and the medicine held to his lips, he seemed suddenly to realize the
+position, to comprehend that it was his nephew who leaned over him. With
+a spasmodic movement he turned towards John, his lips twitching with
+some inward and newly aroused excitement.
+
+"The Book, John!" he said, sharply--"the Book!"
+
+John remained quite composed. With a steady hand he balanced the spoon
+of medicine that he still held.
+
+"Your medicine first, uncle," he said, quietly. "We'll talk about the
+Book after."
+
+But the old man's calm had been disturbed. With unexpected strength he
+raised one thin hand and pushed the spoon aside, spilling the contents
+on the bed.
+
+"How can I leave it?" he exclaimed. "How can I go and leave the Book
+unguarded?" Again his lips twitched and a feverish brightness flickered
+in his eyes as they searched his nephew's face.
+
+"When I go, John," he added, excitedly, "the Book may be in your keeping
+for hours--perhaps for a whole night. I know the Arch-Councillor will
+answer my summons immediately; but it is possible he may be delayed. It
+may be the ordination of the Unknown that I should Pass before he
+arrives. If this is so, I want you to guard the Book--but also I want
+you to guard my dead body. Let no one touch it until he comes. The key
+of the safe is here--" He fumbled weakly for the thin chain that hung
+about his neck. "No one must remove it--no one must touch it until he
+comes--" His voice faltered.
+
+With a calm gesture John forced him back upon the pillows, and quietly
+wiped up the medicine.
+
+But with a fresh effort the old man lifted himself again.
+
+"John," he cried, suddenly, "do you understand what I am saying? Do you
+understand that for a whole night you may be alone with the inviolable
+Scitsym? 'The Hope of the Universe, by whose Light alone the One and
+Only Prophet shall be made known unto the Watchers!'" He murmured the
+quotation in a low, rapt voice.
+
+Again the younger man attempted to soothe him.
+
+"Don't distress yourself!" he said, gravely. "I am here. You can trust
+me. Lie back and rest."
+
+But his uncle's face was still excitedly perturbed; his pale eyes still
+possessed an unnatural brightness.
+
+"Oh yes!" he said, sharply, "I trust you! I have trusted you. I have
+left a letter by which you will see that I have trusted you--and that
+your fidelity has been rewarded. But this is another matter. Can I trust
+you in this? Can I trust you as myself?" As he put the question a sweat
+of weakness and excitement broke out over his forehead.
+
+But it was neither his wild appearance nor his question that suddenly
+sent the blood into John's face and suddenly set his heart bounding. It
+was the abrupt and unlooked-for justification of his own secret,
+treasured hope; the tacit acknowledgment of kinship and obligation made
+now by Andrew Henderson after seven unfruitful years. A mist rose before
+his sight and his mind swam. What was the mad creed of a dying man--of a
+dozen dying men--when the reward of his own long probation awaited him?
+
+But the old man was set to his purpose. With shaking fingers he fumbled
+with two small objects that depended from the chain about his neck. And
+as he held them up, John saw by the glow of the lamp that one was a copy
+in miniature of the metal symbol that decorated the little chapel, the
+other a long, thin key.
+
+As Henderson disentangled and raised these objects to the light, his
+eyes turned again upon his nephew.
+
+"John," he said, tremulously, "I want you to swear to me by the Sign
+that you will not touch my body--nor anything on my body--till the
+Arch-Councillor comes! Swear, as you hope for your own happiness!" A
+wild illumination spread over his face; the unpleasant fanatical light
+showed again in his eyes.
+
+For a moment John looked at him; then stirred by his own emotions, by
+the new pang of self-reproach and gratitude towards this half-crazy man
+so near his end, he went forward and touched the small octagonal symbol
+that gleamed in the light.
+
+"I swear--by the Sign!" he said, in a low, level voice. And almost as
+the words escaped him, the chain slipped from old Henderson's fingers,
+his jaw dropped, and his head fell forward on his chest.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The moments that follow an important event are seldom of a nature to be
+accurately analyzed. For a long while John remained motionless and
+speechless, unable to realize that the huddled figure still warm in his
+arms was in reality the vessel of clay from which a spirit had escaped.
+Then suddenly the realization of the position came to him; with a sharp
+movement he stood upright, and seizing the bell-rope, pulled it
+vigorously.
+
+When the old woman who attended to the household appeared, he pointed to
+her master's body and explained in a few words how the end had come; and
+how in a last urgent command Henderson had forbidden his body to be
+touched until the arrival of a member of his religious sect. The old
+woman accepted the explanation with the apathy common to those who have
+outlived emotion; and with a series of nods and unintelligible
+mutterings methodically proceeded to straighten the already neatly
+arranged furniture of the room, in the instinctive belief that order is
+the first tribute to be paid to Death.
+
+With something of the same feeling John drew the coverlet over the dead
+body, then turned to watch the old woman at her work. But as he looked
+at her a desire to be alone again swept over him, and with the desire a
+corresponding impatience of her slow and measured movements. Chide
+himself as he might for his impatience, curb his natural instinct as he
+might, it was humanly impossible that his strong and eager spirit could
+give thought to Death--while Life was claiming him with out-stretched
+hands.
+
+He held himself rigidly in check until the last chair had been arranged
+and the last cinder swept from the hearth; then as the old woman slowly
+crossed the room and stepped out into the corridor, he sprang with
+irrepressible impetuosity and shut and locked the door.
+
+He had no superstitious consciousness of the dead body so close at
+hand. The dead body--and with it the dead years and the long
+probation--belonged to the past; he with his youth, his strength,
+his hope, was bound for the limitless future.
+
+Without a moment's hesitation he crossed to his uncle's bureau, which
+stood as he had left it three days before when his last illness had
+seized upon him. The papers were all in order; the ink was as yet
+scarcely rusted on the pens; the key protruded from the lock of the
+private drawer. With a tremor of excitement John extended his hand,
+turned it and opened the drawer; then he caught his breath. There lay a
+square white envelope addressed to himself in his uncle's fantastic,
+crooked handwriting.
+
+As he drew it out and held it for a moment in his hand, his thoughts
+centred unerringly round one object. In a moment, the seven years of
+waiting--the strange death scene just enacted--even Andrew Henderson and
+his mystical creed--were blotted from his mind by a wonderful
+rose-colored mist of hope, from which one face looked out--the patient,
+tender, pathetic face of the mother he adored. The emotions, so long
+suppressed, welled up as they had been wont to do years ago in the
+sordid London home.
+
+With a throb of confidence and anticipation he inserted his finger under
+the flap of the envelope and tore it open. With lightning speed his eyes
+skimmed the oddly written lines. Then a short, inarticulate sound
+escaped him, and the blood suddenly receded from his face.
+
+     "MY DEAR NEPHEW," he read.--"In acknowledgment of your services
+     during the past seven years--and also because I have no wish to
+     pass into the Unseen with the stain of vindictiveness on my
+     Soul--I have obliterated from my mind the remembrance of my
+     brother's ingratitude to our father, and have placed the sum of
+     L500 to your credit in the Cleef branch of the Consolidated Bank. I
+     trust it may assist you to commence an industrious career. For the
+     rest, it may interest you to know that my capital, which I realized
+     upon your grandfather's death, is already placed in the treasury of
+     the sect to which I belong--where it will remain until claimed by
+     the One in whose ultimate advent I most solemnly believe.
+
+     "I make you cognizant of these facts that all disputes and
+     unnecessary differences may be avoided after my death. The papers
+     by which my property was made over to the Mystics some five years
+     ago--together with a doctor's certificate as to my mental soundness
+     at the time--is in the hands of the Council. Any attempt to unmake
+     this disposition of my fortune would be fraught with failure.
+
+     "With sincere hopes for your future welfare,
+
+                     "Your uncle,
+
+                       "ANDREW HENDERSON."
+
+For a space John stood pale and rigid, making no attempt to reread the
+letter; then all at once one of those rare and curious upheavals of
+feeling that shake men to their souls seized upon him. The blood rushed
+back into his face in a dark wave; the rose-colored mist that had
+floated before his vision flamed suddenly to red; the same implacable
+rage that, years ago, had impelled his grandfather to disinherit his
+favorite son swelled in his heart. All ideas, all considerations, save
+one, became blurred and indistinct; but this one idea rode him, spurred
+him to a frenzy of desire. It was the blind, instinctive, human wish to
+wreak his loss and disappointment upon some tangible, visible object.
+
+With a dazed movement he turned to the bed; but only the huddled,
+impassive figure beneath the coverlet met his gaze. For more than a
+minute he stared at it helplessly; then a new thought shot across his
+mind and his lips drew together in a thin, hard line. The road to
+revenge lay open before him! With an abrupt gesture he stepped forward
+and pulled back the counterpane.
+
+In the yellow lamp-light the thin face of the dead man had an ashen hue;
+the half-opened eyes and the prominent teeth, from which the lips had
+partly receded, confronted him grewsomely. But the force of his
+disappointment and rage was something before which mere human horror was
+swept aside. With another rapid movement, he stooped over the bed and
+unclasped the thin gold chain that hung round the dead man's neck,
+letting the metal symbol and the long, thin key slip from it into his
+hand. Turning to the dressing-table, he caught up a lamp; hurried from
+the room; and, descending the stairs, passed into the study.
+
+To his excited glance the place looked strangely undisturbed. Though the
+frames of the windows rattled in the gale, the interior arrangements
+were as precise and bare as usual; the fireless grate stared at him
+coldly, and against the whitewashed wall the heavy iron safe stood out
+like an accentuated blot of shadow. Impelled by his one dominating idea,
+he crossed without an instant's hesitation to the door of this hitherto
+inviolable repository of his uncle's secrets, and, inserting the key he
+carried, threw back the massive door.
+
+One glance showed him the thing he sought. Lying in solitary state upon
+the highest shelf was a heavy book bound in white leather. The edges of
+the cover were worn yellow with time and use, and from the centre of the
+binding gleamed the familiar octagonal symbol exquisitely wrought in
+gold and jewels. With hands that trembled slightly he lifted the book
+from its place, closed and locked the door of the safe, and,
+extinguishing the lamp, left the room.
+
+In the flood of unreasoning rage and thwarted hope that surged about
+him, he had no definite plan regarding the object in his hand. He only
+knew, by the medium of instinct, that through it he could strike a blow
+at the uncle who had excluded him from his just inheritance--at the
+crazy scheme by which he had been defrauded of his due.
+
+With hasty steps he mounted the stairs and re-entered the bedroom. To
+his agitated mind it seemed but just that, whatever his vengeance, it
+should be accomplished in the grim, unconscious presence of the dead
+man.
+
+Stepping into the room, he paused and looked about him, seeking some
+suggestion. As he stood there, his eyes, by a natural process of
+inspiration, fell upon the fire that glowed and crackled in the grate;
+and with a sharp, inarticulate sound of satisfaction he strode forward
+to the hearth, knelt down, and prepared for his work of destruction.
+
+[Illustration: "HE ... GATHERED THE FIRST SHEAF OF LEAVES INTO HIS
+FINGERS"]
+
+As he crouched over the flames a fresh gale swept inland from the sea,
+seizing the house in its fierce embrace; and the red tongues of fire
+leaped up the chimney in the instant answer of element to element.
+
+Instinctively he bent forward, opened the book and gathered the first
+sheaf of leaves into his fingers. Then, involuntarily, he paused, as the
+bold characters of the printed words shot up black and clear in the
+fierce glow.
+
+Almost without volition he read the opening lines:
+
+     "Out of obscurity will He come. And--having proved Himself--no man
+     will question Him. For the Past lies in the Great Unknown. By the
+     Scitsym--from which none but the Chosen may read--will ye know Him;
+     and, knowing Him, ye will bow down--Mystics, Arch-Mystics, and
+     Arch-Councillor alike. And the World will be His. For He will be
+     Power made absolute!"
+
+"For he will be Power made absolute!" Something in the six simple words
+arrested Henderson, suspended his thoughts and checked his hand. By an
+odd psychological process his rage became chilled, his mind veered from
+its point of view. With a curious stiffness of motion he drew away from
+the fire--the book held uninjured in his hand.
+
+"He will be Power made absolute!" he repeated, mechanically, as he rose
+slowly to his feet.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+On a certain night in mid-January, exactly ten years after Andrew
+Henderson's death, any one of the multitudinous inhabitants of London
+whom business or pleasure carried to that division of Brompton known as
+Hellier Crescent, would undoubtedly have been attracted to the house
+distinguished from its fellows as No. 8.
+
+Outwardly, this house was not remarkable. It possessed the massive
+portico and the imposing frontage that lend to Hellier Crescent its air
+of dignified repose; but there its similarity to the surrounding
+dwellings ended. The basement sent forth no glow of warmth and comfort,
+as did the neighboring basements; the ground-floor windows permitted no
+ray of mellow light to slip through the chinks of shutter or curtain.
+From attic to cellar, the house seemed in darkness, the only suggestion
+of occupation coming from the occasional drawing back and forth of a
+small slide that guarded a monastic-looking grating set in the hall
+door.
+
+And yet towards this unlighted and unfriendly dwelling a thin stream of
+people--all on foot and all evidently agitated--made their way
+continuously on that January night between the hours of ten and eleven.
+The behavior of these people, who differed widely in outward
+characteristics, was marked by a peculiar fundamental similarity. They
+all entered the quiet precincts of the Crescent with the same air of
+subdued excitement; each moved softly and silently towards the darkened
+house, and, mounting the steps, knocked once upon the heavy door. And
+each in turn stood patient, while the slide was drawn back, and a voice
+from within demanded the signal that granted admittance.
+
+This mysterious gathering of forces had continued for nearly an hour
+when a cab drew up sharply at the corner where Hellier Crescent abuts
+upon St. George's Terrace, and a lady descended from it. As she handed
+his fare to the cabman, her face and figure were plainly visible in the
+light of the street-lamps. The former was pale in coloring, delicately
+oval in shape, and illumined by a pair of large and unusually brilliant
+eyes; the latter was tall, graceful, and clad in black.
+
+Having dismissed her cab, the new-comer crossed St. George's Terrace
+with an appearance of haste, and entering Hellier Crescent, immediately
+mounted the steps of No. 8.
+
+The last member of this strange procession had disappeared into the
+house as she reached the door; but, acting with apparent familiarity,
+she lifted the knocker and let it fall once.
+
+For a moment there was no response; then, as in the case of the former
+visitors, the slide was drawn back and a beam of light came through the
+grating, to be immediately obscured by the shadowy suggestion of a face
+with two inquiring eyes.
+
+"The Word?" demanded a solemn voice.
+
+The new-comer lifted her head.
+
+"He shall be Power made absolute!" she responded in a low and slightly
+tremulous voice; and a moment later the door opened, and she stepped
+into the hall.
+
+The scene inside the house was curious in the extreme. If there were
+quiet and darkness outside, a brilliant light and a tense, contagious
+excitement reigned within. The large hall, lighted by tall lamps, was
+covered with a thick black carpet into which the feet sank noiselessly,
+and the walls and ceiling were draped in the same sombre tint; but at
+intervals of a few feet, columns of white marble, chiselled into curious
+shapes, gleamed upon the observer from shadowy niches.
+
+On ordinary occasions, there was a solemnity, a coldness, in this sombre
+vestibule; but to-night a strange electric activity seemed to have been
+breathed upon the atmosphere. Women with flushed faces and men with
+feverishly bright eyes hurried to and fro in an irrepressible, aimless
+agitation. A blending of dread and hysterical anticipation was stamped
+upon every face. People stopped one another with nervous, unstrung
+gesture and odd, disjointed sentences.
+
+As the last comer entered, she paused for a moment, uncertain and
+hesitating; but almost as she did so, a remarkable-looking and massively
+built man who was standing in the hall, disengaged himself from a group
+of people, and, coming directly towards her, took her hand.
+
+"Mrs. Witcherley! At last!" he exclaimed, in a full, emotional voice. "I
+looked for you among the gathering and for a moment I almost feared--"
+
+"That I would fail?" Her voice was still tinged with agitation; the
+pupils of her large eyes were distended.
+
+"No, I did not mean that. But at such a moment we burn lest even one of
+the Elect be missing." He continued to hold her hand, looking into her
+face with his prominent dark eyes, from which flashed and glowed an
+excitement that spread over his whole heavy face.
+
+"The night of nights!" he exclaimed. "To have lived to witness it!" His
+face glowed with a sudden enthusiasm; and freeing her fingers, he lifted
+up his right hand. "'He shall walk into your midst--and sit above you as
+a King!'" he quoted, in a loud voice. Then remembering his companion, he
+lowered his tone.
+
+"Everything is in readiness," he added, more soberly. "The Precursor
+still unceasingly prophesies the Advent. Come with me into the Place.
+The Gathering is all but assembled." Laying his large hand upon her arm,
+he led her forward unresistingly through the groups of men and women,
+and onward down a long corridor to where a curtain hid an arched
+doorway.
+
+For a moment they paused outside this door, and the man--still laboring
+under some strange excitement--again raised his hand:
+
+"Come!" he cried. "And before we leave the Place, may the Hope of the
+Universe be fulfilled!" Lifting the curtain, he ushered her through the
+door.
+
+The room--or chapel--into which they stepped was large and lofty,
+covered on floor and walls with sections of marble alternately black and
+white; overhead swung a huge octagonal symbol in jewelled and polished
+metal; and at the end farthest from the door a haze of incense clouded
+what appeared to be an altar.
+
+A concourse of people filled every corner of this vast room; and from
+the crouched or upright figures rose a continuous, inaudible murmuring.
+
+Still guiding his companion, the massively built man forced a way
+between the closely packed figures. But, half-way up the room, the woman
+paused and glanced at him.
+
+"This will do," she whispered. "Not any nearer, please. Not any nearer."
+
+His only answer was to lay his hand upon her arm, and by a persistent
+pressure to draw her onward up the narrow aisle. Reaching the railed-in
+space about which the incense hung, he paused in his own turn and
+motioned her towards the foremost row of seats, from which the majority
+of the gathering seemed to hold aloof.
+
+With a quick, nervous gesture she deprecated the suggestion. "No! No!"
+she murmured. "Let me sit behind. Please let me sit behind."
+
+But his fingers tightened impressively upon her arm. "No," he whispered,
+close to her ear. "No, I want you to be here. When the time arrives, I
+want the full light to shine upon you."
+
+After this she demurred no more, but moved obediently into the appointed
+seat, her companion placing himself beside her.
+
+In the first moments of agitation and nervousness, she had scarcely
+observed her surroundings; but now, as her perturbation partially
+subsided, she looked back at the rows of bowed or erect figures, and
+forward at the space about which the incense clung like a filmy veil. At
+a first glance this veil seemed almost too dense to penetrate; but as
+her sight grew accustomed to its drifting whiteness, she was able to
+discern the objects that lay behind.
+
+In place of the altar, usually prominent in every religious building,
+there was a wide semicircular space, within which stood a gold chair
+raised upon a dais and a heavy lectern of symbolic design on which
+rested a white leather book, worn yellow at the edges. Over this book a
+man was poring, apparently unconscious of the active interest he evoked.
+He was short and thick-set, with a square jaw, a long upper lip, and
+keen eyes. Over a head of vividly red hair, he wore a round black silk
+cap, and his figure was enveloped in a flowing black gown.
+
+From time to time, as he read, he lifted one hand in rapt excitement,
+while his lips moved unceasingly in rapid, inaudible speech. At last,
+with a sudden dramatic gesture, he turned from the lectern and threw out
+both arms towards the high gold chair.
+
+"Oh, empty throne! Empty world!" he cried. "Be filled!"
+
+There was something intense, something electric in the words. A startled
+cry broke from the people, already wrought to nervous tension. Some
+among them rose to their feet; some glanced fearfully behind them;
+others cowered upon the ground.
+
+And then--in what precise manner no one present ever remembered--the
+curtain at the doorway of the chapel was swung sharply back; and the
+tall, straight figure of a man clad all in white moved slowly up the
+aisle.
+
+He moved forward calmly and deliberately, his gaze fixed, his senses
+apparently unconscious of the many eyes and tongues from which
+frightened glances and frightened, awe-struck words escaped as he made
+his solitary, impressive progress.
+
+Reaching the railing, he paused and lifted one hand as if in benediction
+towards the red-haired man who still remained in solitary occupation of
+the Sanctuary.
+
+At the action, a gasp went up from the crowded chapel, and even those
+who still crouched upon the floor ventured to raise their heads and
+glance at the spot where the tall figure in the white serge robe stood
+motionless and impressive. Then the whole concourse of devotees stirred
+in involuntary excitement as the red-haired man, with a cry of rapture,
+rushed forward and prostrated himself at the feet of the stranger.
+
+For a space, that to the watchers seemed interminable, the two central
+figures remained rigid; then at last the tall man stooped, and with
+great dignity raised the other.
+
+As he gained his feet, it was obvious that the smaller man was deeply
+agitated. His lips were trembling with some strange emotion, and it
+seemed that he could scarcely command his gestures. After a protracted
+moment of struggle, however, he appeared to regain his self-control; for
+with a slightly tremulous movement he stepped forward, laid his hands on
+the low railing and glanced at the assembled people.
+
+"Mystics!" he began. "Chosen Ones! Out of the Unseen I have come to
+prophesy to you--I, an obscure servant and follower of the Mighty. For
+fifteen days have I spoken--telling you that which was at hand. And now,
+behold I am justified!" He paused and indicated the tall white figure
+still standing motionless, with face averted from the congregation.
+
+"What have I told you!" he continued, his voice rising. "Have I not
+quoted from the sacred Scitsym--which until this hour I have never been
+permitted to look upon? Have I not foretold the coming of this man--the
+garments he would wear--the Sign upon his person? And have I not done
+these things by a power outside myself?" Again his voice rose; and the
+congregation thrilled in response.
+
+"You have listened to me--you have marvelled--but in your Souls doubt
+has held sway. Now is the moment of justification! It is not meet that
+the Great One should plead for recognition; it is for you--the
+Watchers--to see and claim him. Master!" he cried, suddenly. "Master,
+show them the Sign!"
+
+A hush like the hush of night fell upon the people; and in this curious
+and impressive lull the white-robed man turned slowly round facing the
+congregation.
+
+His appearance was arresting and remarkable, though it possessed nothing
+of beauty. He had a tall and powerful figure, a strong and determined
+face; his bare head was covered with close-cut black hair; his hard,
+firm lips were clean-shaven, and his gray eyes looked across the chapel
+with a peculiar sombre fire.
+
+He stood silent for a moment, surveying the faces clustered before him;
+then he raised his left hand.
+
+[Illustration: "ACROSS THE PROPHET'S BREAST, IN MARKS OF A CRUEL
+LACERATION, RAN THE SYMBOLIC OCTAGONAL FIGURE OF THE MYSTIC SECT"]
+
+"My People!" he began, in a deep, slow voice. "We live in an age when
+doubt roams through the world like a beast of prey. I ask not for the
+faith that accepts blindly; but in this most sacred Scitsym--" he
+pointed to the white book upon the lectern--"it is written that, by a
+certain secret Sign, the Arch-Mystics will recognize Him for whom they
+have waited. I call upon the Arch-Mystics to declare whether or no I
+bear upon my person that secret Sign!" He paused for a moment; then with
+a grave, calm gesture he unfastened his robe where it crossed his breast
+and threw it open.
+
+There was a rustle of intense curiosity, as all involuntarily leaned
+forward; an audible gasp of awe and shrinking, as all instinctively drew
+back before the sight that confronted them. Across the Prophet's breast,
+in marks of a cruel laceration, ran the symbolic octagonal figure of the
+Mystic sect.
+
+He stood dignified and unmoved until the tremor of emotion had subsided.
+Then his glance travelled over the foremost row of seats.
+
+"Come forth!" he commanded, authoritatively. "Come forth and acknowledge
+me!" His eyes moved slowly from seat to seat--pausing momentarily on
+the pale, absorbed face of the woman in black. But scarcely had his
+glance rested upon her than the heavily built man who sat beside her,
+rose agitatedly and stepped forward to the sanctuary. For a space he
+stood staring at the scarred skin from which the symbol of his creed
+stood forth as if miraculously branded; then he turned to the
+congregation, his prominent eyes burning, his heavy face working with
+emotion.
+
+"Brethren," he said, inarticulately. "Brethren, it is indeed the Sign!"
+
+But the Prophet remained motionless.
+
+"Where are the other five?" he asked, in a level voice.
+
+Almost simultaneously four men rose from the congregation and came
+forward. One was tall and gaunt, with a Slavonic type of face, wild
+eyes, and a long, fair beard; another was young--scarcely more than
+seven and twenty--with the free carriage, fiery glance, and swarthy
+complexion of the nomadic races of southeastern Europe; the third was a
+small, frail man of fifty, with a nervous system painfully in advance of
+his physical strength; while the fourth was a true mystic--impassioned,
+enthusiastic, detached. One by one these men advanced, examined the
+scars, and turning to the people, confirmed the words of their fellow.
+Then, amid a tremulous hush, the last of the six--the Arch-Councillor
+himself--was led up the aisle.
+
+For an instant the glimmering of some new feeling crossed the Prophet's
+face, as his glance rested on the old man who slowly approached with
+feeble steps, bent back, and anxious, sightless eyes. But, as quickly as
+it had come, the expression passed, and he stepped forward for the old
+man's touch.
+
+With a quivering gesture the Arch-Councillor lifted his hand and
+nervously passed his fingers over the scars; then, drawing the Prophet
+down, he touched his face. For a long moment of suspense his fingers
+lingered over the features; then they fell again upon the scars. And an
+instant later he sank upon his knees.
+
+"It is indeed made manifest!" he cried, in a loud, unsteady voice. "He
+shall sit above you as upon a Throne!"
+
+The words were magical. The whole concourse of people swayed forward
+hysterically. Men pressed upward towards the railing; women wept.
+
+And through it all the Prophet stood unmoved. He stood like a rock
+against which the clamorous human sea beat wildly. With a quiet movement
+he drew his robe across his breast, hiding the unsightly scars, but
+otherwise he made no motion. At last the red-haired man who had first
+claimed him, stepped forward to his side.
+
+"Speak to them, Master!" he said.
+
+The words roused the Prophet. With a calm gesture he raised his head,
+his eyes confronting the mass of strained, excited faces lifted to his.
+
+"My People," he said again, in his deep voice. "What will you do with
+me?"
+
+The response was instant.
+
+"The Throne! The Throne!" The crowd surged forward in a wave, then
+receded as the tide recedes; and the old Arch-Councillor stepped feebly
+into the Sanctuary and extended his hands to the Prophet.
+
+It was a moment of breathless awe. The tall woman, who until that moment
+had remained seated, involuntarily rose to her feet.
+
+She saw the figure of the Prophet move grandly across the Sanctuary in
+the wake of the old blind man; she saw him halt for an infinitesimal
+space at the foot of the throne; she saw him calmly and decisively mount
+the steps of the dais and seat himself in the golden chair. Then,
+prompted by an overwhelming impulse, she yielded to the spirit of the
+moment and dropped to her knees.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+Three hours later, when the curious rite of acknowledgment had been
+completed and the concourse of zealots had departed from Hellier
+Crescent, the first night in his new kingdom opened for the Prophet. As
+the clocks of Brompton were striking two, the six Arch-Mystics--each of
+whom possessed rooms in a remote portion of the house--lingeringly and
+fearfully bade him good-night, and left him alone with the Precursor in
+the apartments that for nearly fifty years had been kept swept and
+garnished in expectation of his advent.
+
+Apart from their suggestion of the mystical and fantastic, these rooms
+possessed an intrinsic interest of their own. And some consciousness of
+this interest appeared to be at work within the Prophet's mind; for
+scarcely had he and his companion been assured of privacy, than he rose
+from the massive ivory chair which had been apportioned to him and from
+which he had made his second and private justification of his claims;
+and very slowly and deliberately began a circuit of the chamber.
+
+With engrossed attention he passed from one to another of the rare and
+costly objects that formed the furniture of the place; while, from the
+ebony table in the centre of the room, his red-haired companion watched
+him with vigilant eyes.
+
+Still moving with unruffled deliberation, he completed his tour of the
+apartment; then a remarkable--a startling thing took place. He wheeled
+round, laid his hands heavily on the Precursor's shoulders, and looking
+closely into his face, broke into speech.
+
+"Well?" he demanded, intensely. "Well? Well? What have you to say?"
+
+At first the red-haired man sat watching him, mute and motionless; then
+with a suddenness equal to his own, he released himself, leaned forward
+in his chair, and silently uncorked a gold flask that stood upon the
+table before him. Lifting it high, he poured some wine into two glass
+goblets, and without a word handed one to the white-robed Prophet, and
+himself picked up the other.
+
+"John," he said, deliberately, "you were magnificent! Let me give you a
+toast? Power! Power made Absolute!"
+
+With a grave gesture the Prophet extended his hand, and their glasses
+clinked.
+
+"Power made Absolute!" he responded, in a low, deep voice.
+
+In silence they drank the toast; but, as he replaced his glass upon the
+table, the Prophet shook off his gravity, and turned again to his
+companion.
+
+"Now!" he exclaimed. "Now! Out with it all! How much of this has been
+native adroitness, and how much unbelievable good-fortune? Out with it!
+I'm hungry and thirsty for the truth."
+
+For answer the Precursor slowly lifted the gold flask and replenished
+his own glass. "Truth in a golden flask! But, to throw a sop to your
+curiosity, it was a matter of native genius engineered by Providence. I
+don't mind admitting that when I stood on the doorstep of this house
+fifteen nights ago and knocked the mystic knock, I felt like a man
+embarking on a coffin-ship." He stopped to drain his glass.
+
+The Prophet took a step forward.
+
+"And then?" he said, eagerly. "Then?"
+
+The other waved his empty glass.
+
+"Oh, there entered the native genius of Terence Dominick Devereaux!
+Under that tremendous escort I stormed the citadel--"
+
+The Prophet smiled. "And the Mystic ears, I have no doubt."
+
+For a third time the Precursor filled his glass.
+
+"The tongue is mightier--and a good deal more portable--than either the
+pen or the sword, John," he said, sagely. "Paving your way with words
+has been an unrecognized work of art. But how about yourself? I have my
+own curiosity." He wheeled round in his seat and looked into his
+companion's face.
+
+The Prophet looked away.
+
+"Oh, I had my qualms, too!" he said, slowly. "Just for a moment the
+world seemed to tremble, when the old Arch-Councillor groped forward and
+put his hands over my face. It swept me off my feet--swept me back ten
+years. It was like a vision in a crystal--if such a thing could exist. I
+saw the whole past scene. The bare room--the old dead man--myself; the
+overwhelming wish to avenge my wrongs, and the sudden suggestion that
+turned the wish cold. I saw the long, bleak night in which I completed
+the colossal task of copying the Scitsym line for line; I saw the gray
+morning steal in across the room as I closed the book, returned it to
+its safe and replaced the key on my uncle's neck in preparation for the
+arrival of the Arch-Councillor. It all passed before my mind, and then
+in a flash was gone. I ceased to be John Henderson."
+
+The Precursor glanced quickly towards the door.
+
+"Avoid that name. Habits grow--and so do suspicions. Your probation has
+been too long and too hard to permit us to run risks. Now that you've
+stepped into your kingdom--" He made an expressive gesture.
+
+The Prophet laughed shortly, then suddenly turned grave again.
+
+"You are right!" he said. "Only a man with a light conscience can skate
+on thin ice. To return to our original subject, what about the inner
+workings of this odd game? It is so curious to have lived for years on
+theory, and suddenly to come face to face with practice. I tell you I'm
+starving for facts." He stepped forward quickly and dropped into a chair
+that faced his companion's.
+
+"Out with it all! To begin, who is the master-spirit? You know what I
+mean. The master-spirit in the true sense. Poor old blind Arian doesn't
+stand for much."
+
+The Precursor looked meditatively at his empty glass.
+
+"No," he said, thoughtfully. "You touch truth there! Michael Arian is
+the cipher; Bale-Corphew's the meaning. Bale-Corphew is an interesting
+man, John--I had almost said a dangerous man--"
+
+The Prophet's lip curled slightly.
+
+"Dangerous!"
+
+"Yes; dangerous in a sense. In the sense that a personality always is
+dangerous. Among the six Arch-Mystics there is, to my thinking, only one
+_man_, and he interests me. He interests me, does Horatio
+Bale-Corphew!"
+
+The Prophet leaned forward in his chair.
+
+"I think I catch your meaning," he said. "Something of the same idea
+occurred to me when he rose from his seat to-night. While we spied upon
+them in the last six months, he always struck me as curiously
+un-English, with that sleek exterior and those flashing eyes of his. But
+in the chapel to-night he was almost aggressively alien. When he touched
+my arm I could literally feel him bristle."
+
+The other nodded.
+
+"You've said it!" he cried. "Horatio bristles! His whole queer soul is
+in this business--every fibre of it. He attempts no division of
+allegiance--except, perhaps, in the matter of the heart--"
+
+The Prophet glanced up and smiled.
+
+"The heart? Do my faithful Watchers permit themselves hearts? The
+Scitsym makes no provision for such frail organs."
+
+The Precursor laughed again.
+
+"Oh, we Elect are by no means free from little saving weaknesses! That's
+where we become dramatic. You can't have effect without contrast.
+Horatio, for instance, is instinctively dramatic."
+
+"Indeed!"
+
+"Yes. Oh yes! I know what I'm saying. I've studied them all. More than
+once, when my Soul has been communing with your August Spirit, I have
+watched Horatio's dramatic contrast from the corner of my eyes."
+
+Again the Prophet smiled.
+
+"The contrast frequents the chapel then?"
+
+"Frequents? Undoubtedly. Horatio has literally swept her into the fold.
+She was here to-night to bend the knee to you."
+
+A look of recollection crossed the Prophet's eyes.
+
+"To-night?" he said. "Not the woman who sat beside him? The woman with
+the big eyes? She and Bale-Corphew! The idea is absurd!"
+
+"Undeniable, nevertheless. I have deduced the story. The lady is
+a widow--no relations--too much freedom--vague aspirations after
+the ideal. She has sounded society and found it too shallow;
+sounded philosophy and found it too deep; and upon her horizon
+of desires and disappointments has loomed the colossal presence of
+Bale-Corphew--enthusiast, mystic, leader of a fascinatingly unorthodox
+sect. What is the result? The lady--too feminine to be truly modern, too
+modern to be wholly womanly--is viewing life through new glasses, and by
+their medium seeing Horatio invested with a halo otherwise invisible."
+
+The Prophet remained quiet and silent; then he rose slowly from his seat
+and walked round the table. "Devereaux," he said, laconically, "only the
+Prophet is going to wear a halo here."
+
+The Precursor's sharply marked, expressive eyebrows went up in quick
+comment.
+
+"Can even a latter-day Prophet afford autocracy?"
+
+For a space the Prophet made no response; then he took a step forward
+and laid his hand impressively on his friend's shoulder.
+
+"Devereaux," he said, in a new voice--a voice that unconsciously held
+something of the command that had marked it in the chapel--"the Prophet
+of the Mystics has come to rule. He has not come to follow the laws that
+others--that men like Bale-Corphew--have seen fit to make. He has come
+to be a law unto himself!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+It is astonishing in how short a space of time a man of vigorous
+character can make his personality felt. On the night of his mysterious
+advent, the Prophet had found his people in a condition of mental
+chaos--as liable to repudiate as to accept the seeker for their
+confidence; but before one month had passed he had, by domination of
+will, so moulded this neurotic mass of humanity that his own position
+had gradually and insensibly merged from suppliant into that of
+autocrat. Without a murmur of doubt or dissension the Mystics had
+proclaimed him their king.
+
+On the last day of the thirty he sat alone in his room--the room in
+which he and the red-haired Precursor had held their private council on
+the night of his coming. The heavy purple curtains that shielded the
+windows were partly drawn, throwing a subdued, almost a devotional,
+light over the wide, imposing apartment and across the ebony table, on
+which rested the sacred Scitsym, surrounded by an array of smaller and
+more ancient books, several rolls of parchment, a number of quill pens,
+and a dish of ink. It was at this table that the Prophet sat; he wore
+the monastic white robe that he always affected in presence of his
+people, his arms were folded, and his face looked calm and grave, as
+though he appreciated the moment's solitude.
+
+The solitude, however, was not destined to endure. The soft booming of a
+gong presently roused him to attention, and a moment later the door of
+the apartment opened and an ascetic-looking man, whose duty and
+privilege it was to wait upon him, entered deferentially.
+
+He stood for a moment in an attitude of profound abasement; then he
+stepped forward and stood beside the table.
+
+"Master," he said, in a low voice. "The newest among us would speak with
+you!"
+
+The Prophet raised his head and a gleam of interest crossed his eyes;
+but almost immediately he subdued the look.
+
+"I am willing," he replied, unemotionally, in the usual formula. Then he
+glanced at his attendant. "After this, the audiences for the day are
+over," he added.
+
+The man bowed, and with awe-struck deference moved silently from the
+room, almost immediately reappearing, to usher in the devotee, and with
+the same conscious air of mystery, to retire, closing the heavy door.
+
+For a moment the new-comer stood just inside the threshold. As on the
+night of the Prophet's coming, she wore a long, black dress that
+accentuated her height and grace, and brought into prominence the clear
+pallor of her skin and the remarkable luminous brilliance of her eyes. A
+struggle between superstitious dread and human curiosity was distinctly
+visible in her expression as she stood uncertain of her position,
+doubtful as to her first move.
+
+The Prophet glanced at her, and the shadow of a smile touched his lips.
+
+"Have no fear," he said. "Come forward!"
+
+The strong, steady voice gave her courage, and with slightly agitated
+haste she stepped towards the table.
+
+The Prophet gravely motioned her to a seat and assumed an attitude of
+attention. Upon each of the thirty mornings he had sat in this same
+position in his ivory chair, while, one after another, the members of
+the sect had claimed audience with him. Morning after morning he had
+exhibited the same grave, aloof interest--his hands clasped, his eyes
+upon the Scitsym--while the fearful, the fanatical, the hysterical had
+poured forth their tales of struggle or aspiration. But now, on this
+last morning, he was conscious of a new suggestion, a new impression in
+what had grown to be routine. This last aspirant for spiritual light was
+neither fanatical nor hysterical, was scarcely even imbued with fear.
+Something within his brain responded to the idea, to the reassuring
+human curiosity that gleamed in her eyes. He found himself waiting for
+her first words with an impatience that no other member of the
+congregation had aroused.
+
+But the wait was long--disconcertingly long. The aspirant glanced
+uncertainly about the room, as if unwilling or unable to break into
+speech; then at last she raised her head, and, with an effort, met the
+Prophet's eyes.
+
+"I'm terribly nervous!" she said, in an irresistibly feminine voice.
+
+The effect upon her hearer was instantaneous. The distant and spiritual
+aloofness, so easy to assume in the presence of the credulous, became
+suddenly a matter of impossibility. With a quiet dignity that had more
+of masculine protectiveness than of mystical inspiration he turned to
+her afresh.
+
+"Have no fear!" he answered, gently. "My only desire is to help you.
+Tell me everything that is in your mind."
+
+She leaned forward quickly. "You--you are most kind--" she began. Then
+again she halted.
+
+But he took no notice of her embarrassment.
+
+"Why have you never come before?" he asked. "Had you no doubts to be set
+at rest?" He spoke so quietly that her nervousness forsook her, and with
+a swift impulse she glanced up at him.
+
+"I--I think I was afraid," she said, candidly. "You see, I am not
+exactly one of the others--"
+
+"You did not quite believe that the One you had waited for had really
+come?" His voice was low and tinged with some inscrutable meaning.
+
+"Oh no! No; it was not that. Before you came, I confess I was sceptical;
+I confess I did not believe that any one would come, that there was any
+truth--any real meaning--in the sect. But then--when you did come--"
+
+The Prophet lifted his head.
+
+"When I did come?" he asked, sharply.
+
+"The whole thing was different--"
+
+"The whole thing was different?" he repeated, slowly and meditatively.
+By a curious process of suggestion and recollection, something of his
+own experiences in the realm of mental upheaval rose with her words. He
+studied the pale face and brilliant eyes with a fresh and more intimate
+interest.
+
+"The whole thing was different?" he said once more, in his slow, deep
+voice.
+
+The warm color flooded her face. "Yes," she admitted. "Yes. You seemed
+the one real person--the one sane thing in the whole ceremony. I felt--I
+knew that you were--strong." She paused, alarmed at her own timidity;
+and again their eyes met.
+
+"And why have you never come to me before?" He had no particular meaning
+in the question; he was only conscious of an inexplicable wish to
+prolong the interview.
+
+"Oh, I don't know--I scarcely know." Again she spoke quickly and
+nervously. "I have come every night to hear you speak--I have loved to
+hear you speak. But--but to be alone with you--" She paused,
+expressively. "It is all so strange--so extraordinary. It doesn't seem
+to belong to the present day--" She looked up at him in appealing
+perplexity.
+
+"And why did you come now?"
+
+"Why? Oh, because--because I could not stay away."
+
+For the first time the Prophet was conscious of a tremor of
+discomfiture; for the first time the spectacle of his fraud, as seen
+from a point of view other than his own, touched him unpleasantly. He
+moved slightly in his massive chair.
+
+"In this life," he said, with a sudden, almost incontinent assumption of
+his Prophetic manner, "we must be ever careful to distinguish the Wine
+from the Vessel that contains it. I endeavor, with all the Power I am
+possessed of, to impress upon my People that I have come, not to _be_
+the Way, but to _show_ the Way! To teach you all that what you seek in
+me, is in each one of you. Every man is his own Prophet, if he but knew
+it!" As he spoke he turned his eyes upon the Scitsym, and the hard,
+inscrutable look that so dominated his followers descended upon his
+face. As he reached the last words, he glanced again at his companion,
+but as his eyes rested on her face he paused disconcerted. She was
+gazing at him with a candid, spontaneous admiration infinitely more
+human and infinitely more irresistible than the neurotic adoration that
+was daily lavished on him. With an odd, inexplicable sense of guilt, he
+rose quickly from his seat.
+
+"Do not forget--do not allow yourself to forget that this is my
+teaching," he said. "That you have each within yourselves the thing you
+demand in me. Look for it within yourselves! Rely upon yourselves!"
+
+As he ceased, she also rose. She was pale, and trembled slightly.
+
+"But if one cannot follow that teaching?" she asked. "If one longs to
+rely upon some one else? If one cannot rely upon one's self?"
+
+The Prophet made no answer. He stood with one hand resting on the table,
+his gaze fixed upon the book.
+
+Emboldened by his silence, she approached him by a step.
+
+"I think I could believe--" she murmured. "I think I could
+believe--anything, if I might learn it from you." She paused
+pleadingly; then, as he still stood unresponsive, the color rushed again
+into her face.
+
+"I--I have been presumptuous," she said. "I have offended you."
+
+Something in her tone, in her charming unaffected humility stung him.
+For the first time in his career as Prophet, the blood surged hotly and
+painfully into his face.
+
+"Do not say that!" he began, impulsively; then he checked himself. "I am
+here to teach my People," he added. "All my People--without exception."
+
+For one moment she studied his face half doubtfully; then at last her
+own emotions conquered her doubt.
+
+"Then I may come again?"
+
+He did not reply at once; and when at last his words did come, his voice
+was unusually irresolute and low.
+
+"You may come--at any time," he said, without meeting her eyes.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+So it came about that the serpent of misgiving entered into the
+Prophet's paradise. With Enid Witcherley's words, the realization of his
+true position had been unpleasantly suggested to him, and the grain of
+doubt had been scattered over the banquet he had set himself to enjoy.
+It was one thing to fool men who yearned to be fooled--even to fool
+women whose peculiarities set them apart from their sex; but it was
+indisputably another matter to dupe a young and confiding girl, who came
+with all the fascination of modern doubt, counterbalanced by the charm
+of feminine credulity.
+
+Long after she left him, he had paced up and down the room in perplexity
+of spirit, until at last, with a sudden contempt for his own weakness,
+he had turned to where the white binding of the Scitsym caught the
+subdued light. The sight of the book had nerved him, as it never failed
+to do; but for all his regained firmness, the sense of uneasy shame had
+remained with him during the day; and that night, when he addressed his
+people, he had instinctively guarded his glance from resting on the
+seats that fronted the Sanctuary.
+
+But now that first interview was past by three weeks, and Enid's daily
+visits to the great room where he gave audience to the congregation had
+become one of the recognized events of the twenty-four hours. The sense
+of shame returned periodically; but on each renewal of the feeling he
+salved his conscience more and more successfully with the assurance that
+to her, as to himself, the Mystics were in reality nothing but the
+products of a neurotic age--mere hysterical dabblers in the truths of
+the universe. She was too delicately feminine, he told himself with
+growing conviction, too intelligent and self-controlled, to be more than
+temporarily attracted to any such exotic creed. She might toy with it
+for a while, but the day must inevitably dawn when common-sense and the
+need of surer things would send her back into the broad channel of
+simple, satisfying Christianity. For a space this unnatural state of
+things would last; for a space their curious companionship would
+continue--their long, intimate talks would make life something new and
+wonderful; then--But there, for some unexplained reason, speculation
+invariably stopped.
+
+So things stood on the fiftieth morning after her first coming. The
+stream of suppliants for his favor was all but exhausted, and he awaited
+to give the last audience of the day.
+
+After the moment of quiet and solitude that always separated the
+interviews, the sonorous gong announced the last visitor; the silent,
+ascetic attendant threw open the door and Enid entered.
+
+This time she displayed none of the hesitancy that had marked her early
+manner. She came towards the table with quick, assured steps, her face
+bright with anticipation.
+
+As she approached, the Prophet rose. It was remarkable that he no longer
+retained his sitting position when she entered the room, as was his
+custom with the other members of the sect. Involuntarily and almost
+unconsciously he extended to her the ordinary courtesies that man
+instinctively offers to woman.
+
+As she reached the table, she glanced up at him, and something of the
+pleasure died out of her face.
+
+"You look tired," she said, softly.
+
+He smiled.
+
+"Does that disappoint you?"
+
+His tone confused her.
+
+"Oh no! No!" Then she colored slightly and glanced at him again. "Why do
+you ask?"
+
+"Because it is the way of humanity to refuse any common weakness to its
+leaders--spiritual or temporal."
+
+Again a wave of color crossed her skin. "But surely--"
+
+"Surely what?"
+
+She glanced away; then, seeming to gather up her courage, she looked
+back at him.
+
+"I mean," she said, slowly, "that some people are so strong that they
+may be allowed to have anything--"
+
+"Even weaknesses--" Once more he smiled. It was significant how,
+gradually and indisputably, the tone of teacher had dropped out of his
+conversation. Neither could have told the date on which the change had
+occurred--perhaps neither was conscious that it had even taken place.
+But the fact remained that, with her, he no longer felt compelled to
+hold aloof; that, with her, he had discarded the allegorical manner of
+speech, and had begun to show himself as he naturally was.
+
+"Even weaknesses?" he said again, as she made no attempt to answer.
+
+At the words her eyes once more met his.
+
+"Yes," she said, with new resolution--"yes, even weaknesses. I often
+think that it is because you are so--so human that you hold us as you
+do. It seems right that a Prophet should belong to the people he has
+come to teach. All the prophets of the world have essentially belonged
+to their own times. If you had sat upon the Throne all day and communed
+with your Soul, I should have been very much afraid of you; but I should
+never have believed in you as I do now, when you talk to me and advise
+me and help me like--like a friend." Her voice trembled slightly.
+
+A peculiar expression crossed the Prophet's face.
+
+"So I seem a--friend?"
+
+"More than a friend. I can never tell you what you have been to me--what
+you have done for me. I have never been so happy--so satisfied in my
+life, as in these last three weeks. Every disappointment and
+dissatisfaction seems to have slipped away; I seem to have been living
+in some calm, beautiful, restful atmosphere--" She paused, her face as
+well as her voice tinged with a subtle excitement.
+
+"It may be very selfish, but I wish that these days could go on forever.
+I know that, for you, they are only a probation; that you must crave for
+the moment when, having taught us everything, you will go out into the
+world and teach the Unbelievers. I know all that, and I know it is only
+right, but--but I hate to think of it!" A sudden break came in her
+voice.
+
+"You hate to think that all this must end?"
+
+Again their eyes met; but, as though the contact of glances embarrassed
+her, Enid looked away.
+
+"Yes, I do hate it. Do you despise me for being so selfish--so jealous
+of those other people who will take our place?"
+
+For a moment the Prophet made no reply. In the dim light of the room,
+the muscles of his hard face looked set; his strong hands were clasped.
+
+"Do you despise me?" she asked again.
+
+"It is not for me to judge any one--you least of all," he answered,
+without looking at her.
+
+At the subdued tone, the unexpected words, she turned to him
+apprehensively.
+
+"You are angry with me?"
+
+"Indeed, no."
+
+"Then what is it? What have I done--or said?"
+
+He remained silent.
+
+In her sudden distress she leaned forward in her chair, looking into
+his face with new solicitude.
+
+"I know--I feel that I have displeased you. Won't you tell me what I
+have done?"
+
+As she put the question, she laid one gloved hand upon the table; and
+though the Prophet's eyes were fixed upon the Scitsym, he was conscious
+in every fibre of the appeal the unstudied gesture made--as he was
+poignantly conscious of the clear eyes, the soft dark hair, the
+questioning upturned face.
+
+For an interminable time the silence remained unbroken; at last, with a
+little sound of fresh distress, Enid bent still nearer.
+
+"Oh, I understand!" she exclaimed. "I understand! You think I have taken
+advantage of your goodness. You think I have imagined that, because you
+are kind and patient and tolerant, I might look upon you as--as a man."
+As she said the word she paused, frightened by her own timidity.
+
+But as suddenly the Prophet wheeled round and laid his fingers over
+hers. The pressure of his hand was like steel, the expression of his
+face was altered and disturbed.
+
+"If you only knew--" he said, sharply--"if you only knew how I have
+longed to hear you say just that one word _man_!" He paused almost
+triumphantly, his eyes searching her frightened face, his fingers
+gripping hers.
+
+For an instant she sat petrified and fascinated; then a faint sound of
+alarm escaped her, and she turned towards the door.
+
+Without the formality of the announcing gong, two men had entered the
+room, and stood silent spectators of the tableau. One was Devereaux, the
+Precursor; the other was Horatio Bale-Corphew.
+
+For one embarrassed moment all four looked at each other; then the
+Precursor hastened to save the situation. He made a long, profound
+obeisance, and stepped deferentially to the table.
+
+"Your pardon, Master!" he murmured. "We knew not that the immutable
+Soul was speaking from within you, calling one among us towards the
+Light!" He glanced quickly over his shoulder to where the massive form
+and agitated face of Bale-Corphew was framed in the doorway.
+
+At his peremptory look the Arch-Mystic seemed to gather himself
+together. Stepping forward, he made a slightly tardy reverence.
+
+"Master," he said, huskily, "what the Precursor tells you is the truth.
+Seeing the threshold unguarded, we concluded that the audiences for the
+day were over." His prominent brown eyes were filled with conflicting
+expressions as he turned them on the Prophet.
+
+But the Prophet remained unmoved. The hard look had returned to his
+face, the stern rigidity to his figure. Very slowly he released the hand
+that still trembled under his own.
+
+"The time of the Prophet belongs to his People," he said, with dignity.
+"He holds audience whenever, wherever, and _however_ it is expedient.
+Speak, my son! In what can I serve you?"
+
+Bale-Corphew looked at him in silence. Whatever he had come to say
+appeared to have escaped his mind. For a while inaction reigned in the
+room; then, with a pale face and nervous manner, Enid rose, bowed to the
+Prophet, and moved noiselessly to the door.
+
+All three watched her until she had disappeared; then Bale-Corphew found
+voice again.
+
+"Master," he murmured, hurriedly, "with your permission, I also would
+leave the Presence;" and with a perturbed gesture, he too bowed and
+passed out of the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+On a crisp, cold afternoon, one week after her interview with the
+Prophet, Enid Witcherley sat in the drawing-room of her London flat. The
+early portion of the day had been pleasantly warmed and brightened by
+the pale March sunshine; but at three o'clock a searching wind had begun
+to blow across the city from the east; and now, as the small gold clock
+on her bureau chimed the hour of five, she rose from the couch where she
+had been sitting, and, crossing the room with a little shiver, drew a
+chair to the fire and pressed the electric bell.
+
+As the maid appeared, in answer to her summons, she gave her order
+without looking round.
+
+"Tea, Norris!" she said, in an unusually curt and laconic voice.
+
+For a considerable time after the maid's departure she sat motionless,
+her hands stretched out towards the blazing logs, her large eyes
+absently watching the firelight on her many and beautiful rings. When
+the woman reappeared, and, noiselessly arranging the tea-table, moved it
+to her side, she scarcely glanced up; and to the most superficial
+observer it would have been patent that her own thoughts and
+speculations fully absorbed her mind.
+
+She retained her contemplative attitude after the servant had withdrawn
+for the second time, and it is doubtful how long she would have remained
+sunk in apparent lethargy had not the unexpected sound of the hall-door
+bell caused her to start into an upright position with a little
+exclamation of surprise and impatience.
+
+As she sat listening with nervous intentness, the door opened, and once
+more Norris appeared. After a second's hesitation she crossed to her
+mistress.
+
+"There's a gentleman at the door, ma'am," she said, deprecatingly.
+
+Enid looked up, a frown still darkening her forehead.
+
+"I told you I was not at home."
+
+"I know, ma'am, but--" Norris hesitated.
+
+"But what? I told you I was not to be disturbed. I _won't_ be
+disturbed." With a gesture plainly indicative of high-strung nerves, she
+turned to the table and poured herself out a cup of tea.
+
+The maid glanced behind her towards the door. "But the gentleman won't
+go, ma'am--"
+
+"Won't go!" In her surprise Enid laid down the cup she had been about to
+raise to her lips. "Who is he?" she demanded.
+
+Norris looked down. "I don't know, ma'am. I told him you were not at
+home, but he won't go. He's the sort of gentleman who won't take no for
+an answer."
+
+"I don't understand you. Who is he? What is he like?" Unconsciously and
+involuntarily Enid's tone quickened. Something in the woman's
+words--something undefined and yet suggestive--stirred and agitated her.
+
+Norris seemed to choose her words. "Well, ma'am," she answered, slowly,
+"he's very tall--and not like any other gentleman that comes here. I
+can't rightly explain it, miss, he seems used to having his own way--"
+
+As she halted, uncertain how to choose her words, Enid rose nervously.
+She could not have defined her emotions, but some feeling at once vague
+and portentous was working in her mind.
+
+"Did he give no name?"
+
+"No, ma'am. I was to say that he was some one that must be seen. He'd
+give no name."
+
+For a further instant Enid was silent, conscious of nothing but her own
+unsteady pulses; then suddenly she turned almost angrily upon the
+servant.
+
+"Show him in!" she cried. "Show him in at once! Don't keep him standing
+at the door."
+
+In some confusion Norris turned and walked across the room. At the
+doorway she paused and looked back.
+
+"Will you have the lights on, ma'am?"
+
+"No. No; the fire makes light enough. I like twilight and a fire. Don't
+stand waiting!"
+
+The woman departed; and for a space that seemed to her interminable,
+Enid stood beside the fireplace, motionless with hope, dread, and an
+almost uncontrollable nervousness. At last, as in a dream, she saw the
+door open and the tall, characteristic figure of the Prophet move into
+the room.
+
+She was vaguely aware that he halted for a moment, as if undecided as
+to his action, while Norris retired, softly closing the door. Then, with
+a sudden leap of the heart, she was conscious that he was coming towards
+her across the shadowed room.
+
+He moved straight forward until he was close beside her; and, with one
+of his decisive, imperious gestures, he put out both hands and caught
+hers.
+
+"It was a case of Mohammed and the mountain!" he said, in his grave
+voice. "You wouldn't come to me; I _had_ to come to you."
+
+No sound escaped her. She stood before him mutely, her face paling and
+flushing, her hands fluttering in his.
+
+There was a slight pause; and again he bent towards her.
+
+"Why have you stayed away?"
+
+She hesitated for a moment, spellbound by her emotion; then, making a
+sudden effort, she looked up. "I--I was afraid." Her voice was so low
+and shaken that the words were a mere whisper.
+
+"Afraid? Afraid of what?"
+
+She made no answer.
+
+"Of what? Of Bale-Corphew?" He gave a slight, sarcastic laugh.
+
+"No!" She looked up sharply. "Oh no!"
+
+"Then of what? Of me?" His voice suddenly sank, and the pressure of his
+fingers tightened.
+
+"No! Oh, I don't know! I don't know!" With a tremulous gesture she tried
+to withdraw her hands.
+
+At the movement, he suddenly drew her towards him. "Tell me!" he said.
+"I want to know. I must know!"
+
+For the first time since he had entered the room, her glance rested
+fully on his face. The light was uncertain, but as her gaze concentrated
+itself, a new look--a look of wonder and alarm--sprang across her eyes.
+In the seven days since they had spoken together, a change had fallen
+on him. Some alteration she could not define had grown into his
+expression; the cold mastery of himself and others was still visible;
+but a new emotion had insensibly been created--something powerful and
+even dominant--for which she could find no name. With a sharp,
+instinctive alarm, her lips parted.
+
+"What is it?" she said, apprehensively. "Why are you here? The time has
+not come for you to go out into the world?"
+
+A faintly ironic smile flitted across his lips.
+
+"Surely, if one is a Prophet, one can alter even prophecies."
+
+He said the words deliberately, looking down into her face.
+
+The tone, the intentional flippancy of the words, came to her with a
+shock. It was as if, by considered action, he had set about jeopardizing
+his own dignity. A chill of undefined apprehension blew across her mind
+like a cold wind.
+
+"I--I don't understand," she stammered. "How did you get here? How did
+you get away?"
+
+Again his keen eyes searched hers.
+
+"As for getting away," he said, slowly, "when a Prophet has a Precursor,
+he should be able to arrange these things. Five o'clock is a dull hour
+at Hellier Crescent. The Arch-Mystics are perusing the Scitsym; the
+Precursor is guarding the sacred threshold of the Prophet; the Prophet
+is--presumably--communing with his Soul. The routine of this evening
+differs in no way from the routine of any other evening--except that the
+Precursor is rather more than usually vigilant in his watch." Again the
+forced flippancy was apparent; and to Enid, staring at him with wide,
+perplexed eyes, there was something inexplicable and alarming in this
+new and unfamiliar attitude. With a tremor of foreboding, her glance
+travelled over his face.
+
+"Has anything happened?" she asked. "Have the People done wrong? Have
+you--have you been called elsewhere?" At the last dread possibility her
+voice faltered.
+
+But the Prophet stood cold and almost rigid. At last, by an immense
+effort, he seemed to gather himself together for some tremendous end.
+
+"Enid," he said, gravely, "I don't know how much you know of life, but I
+presume you know very little. I presume that--and shall act on the
+presumption. I shall not expect--even ask--any leniency of you.
+
+"I came here this evening to tell you something that will alter your
+opinion of me so effectually that nothing hereafter can reinstate me in
+your mind." He spoke slowly and deliberately, without tremor or falter.
+Whatever of struggle lay behind his words, it lay with the past. It was
+evident as he stood there in the pretty, luxurious room, that he
+possessed a purpose, and that he held to it without thought of a
+retrograde step.
+
+"I have come to make a confession," he said, quietly. "Not because I
+believe in the habit of unburdening one's conscience, but because there
+is something you have a right to know--"
+
+"I--? A right to know?" Her lips paled.
+
+"Yes. A right to know." With a sudden access of feeling he dropped her
+hands and turned towards the window, where the last glimmer of the
+wintry twilight showed through the soft silk curtains.
+
+"I am putting myself in your hands," he said, steadily. "I am
+jeopardizing myself utterly by what I am going to say; but it seems to
+me the only way by which I can make--well, can patch up some poor
+amends--
+
+"I may be presumptuous, but I believe--I think--that I have stood for
+something in your eyes." He turned and looked at her. But in the mingled
+dusk and firelight only the pale outline of her face was visible.
+
+"Enid!" he cried, with sudden resolution, "it must be faced. It must be
+said. I'm not what you think me. I'm a fraud--a lie--an impostor. No
+more a Prophet--no more inspired than you--or Bale-Corphew!" He stopped
+abruptly and drew a slow, deep breath.
+
+The pause that followed was long and strained. In the grip of strong
+emotions, each stood rigid, striving vainly to read the other's face. At
+last, goaded by the silence, he spoke again.
+
+"You have done this!" he cried. "You have compelled me to tell you! I
+came to these people; I duped them--and gloried in duping them. I
+despised them, understood them, traded on them without a scruple. Then
+you came. You came--and the scheme was shattered. The whole thing, that
+had bubbled and sparkled, became suddenly like flat champagne. That is a
+common simile, but it is descriptive. The acting of an actor depends
+upon his audience. While my audience was composed of fools, I fooled
+them; but when you came--you with your scepticism, your curiosity, your
+feminine dependency--I lost my cue. I became conscious of the footlights
+and the make-up." Again he paused; and again he endeavored to read her
+face. His manner was still restrained, but below his calm were the
+stirrings of a deep agitation. There was tense anxiety in the set of his
+lips, an inordinate anticipation in the keenness of his eyes. For a
+space he stood waiting; then, as she made no effort towards response, he
+stepped to her side.
+
+"Say something!" he exclaimed. "Speak to me! I am waiting for you to
+speak."
+
+With a low, frightened murmur she drew back, extending her hands, as if
+to ward him off.
+
+The sound and the movement stung him to action. With a speed that might
+have been construed into fear, he came still nearer.
+
+"Enid!" he said. "Enid!"
+
+But again she retreated involuntarily.
+
+"Oh, why did you do it?" she exclaimed, suddenly, in a faint, shaken
+voice. "Oh, why did you do it? Why did you do it?"
+
+For an instant her tone and her manner daunted him; then he straightened
+his body and raised his head.
+
+"I did it for what is reckoned the most sordid motive in the world," he
+said, in a level voice. "I did it for money!"
+
+"For money?" With a scared movement she turned upon him, and for the
+first time since he had made his revelation, he saw her pale, alarmed,
+incredulous face in the full light of the fire.
+
+"I was wronged!" he said, sharply. "These people had defrauded me. I
+wanted what was justly mine."
+
+"Wanted?" The word formed itself almost inarticulately.
+
+"Yes; wanted. Wanted with all my might. I have worked, schemed, suffered
+for this in ways you could never imagine. I thought myself invincible.
+I believed that if the devil himself stood in my way it would not deter
+me. And now you--a frail girl--have wrecked the scheme!" He paused
+again, leaning towards her in sudden unconscious appeal for
+comprehension.
+
+"I won't say it hasn't been a struggle to come to you like this--to make
+my confession. It has. My conscience and I have been struggling night
+and day. I have held out to the last. It was only to-day--this very
+day--when I woke to face the crisis of my plans, that I knew I was
+beaten--knew the fight was over.
+
+"And do you understand why this has happened? Do you know why I am going
+away as empty-handed as I came? It is because I have seen you--because I
+love you--"
+
+He put out his hands. But as his fingers touched her, she thrust him
+away, freeing herself with fierce resentment.
+
+"Don't! don't! don't!" she cried. "You call yourself an impostor--You
+are worse than that. Much worse. You are a thief!"
+
+He stepped back as though she had struck him, and his hands dropped to
+his sides.
+
+"Yes, you are a thief!" she said again, hysterically; "a thief!"
+
+The repetition of the word goaded him.
+
+"Wait! Let me defend myself!"
+
+But with a broken sound of protest she flung her hands over her ears.
+
+"No! no! no!" she cried, vehemently. "There is no defence to make. There
+is no defence. You may leave the money of the sect, but you have stolen
+things that can never be replaced. Faith--hopes--ideals--" Her voice
+failed her.
+
+"Mistaken faith--mistaken ideals--" He caught her wrists, drawing her
+hands downward.
+
+But again she freed herself and confronted him with blazing eyes and a
+face marred by tears and emotion.
+
+"Nothing is mistaken that lifts one up--that helps one to live. Oh, you
+don't knew what you have done! You don't know! I thought you so
+noble--so great--and now--"
+
+"Now I am condemned unheard."
+
+"Unheard? Do you think words could change anything? There is only one
+thing I wish for now--never, never to see you again as long as either of
+us live!" With each word her voice rose, and on the last it broke with
+an excited sob.
+
+While she had been speaking the Prophet's face had become very pale. He
+turned to her now with a manner that was preternaturally quiet.
+
+"Very well!" he said. "I understand! But there is no need for you to
+trouble. All our arrangements are made--have been made for months. We
+attend the Gathering to-night; and afterwards, when Hellier Crescent is
+quiet, we go--as unobtrusively as we came. You see I give you the key to
+our plans; you are free to frustrate them, if you think fit. I don't
+believe I had any real hope of merciful judgment when I came here--women
+are not merciful when they are robbed of their illusions. But I confess
+I hoped for justice. I thought that you might hate me--"
+
+"Hate you?" she cried. "Hate you? We only hate what we respect. I don't
+hate you. I only despise you with all my heart. I want you to go before
+I despise myself as well!" Her own cruel disillusioning--her own
+unbearable sense of loss--swept over her afresh; her voice rose again,
+and again broke hysterically. With an uncontrolled movement of grief and
+mortification she turned away from him and threw herself upon a couch,
+burying her face in the pillows.
+
+For several minutes she cried tempestuously; then through the storm of
+her angry tears she caught the sound of a closing door. With a start
+she sat up and looked about her.
+
+The faint relic of daylight still showed through the curtains of the
+window; the firelight still played pleasantly on the untouched tea-table
+and the fragile furniture; but the room was empty. The Prophet was
+gone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+When she realized this fact, Enid rose from her seat with a murmur of
+dismay. In her sharply feminine sense of loss, she took one involuntary
+step towards the door; but almost as the step was taken, her anger, her
+shattered faith assailed her anew, and, with a fresh burst of tears she
+turned and flung herself back upon the couch.
+
+For a long time she lay with her face among the pillows; then, at last,
+as her angry sobs died out and the violence of her grief subsided, she
+sat up, wiped her eyes, and glanced at her dripping handkerchief.
+
+[Illustration: "WITH A FRESH BURST OF TEARS, SHE TURNED AND FLUNG
+HERSELF UPON THE COUCH"]
+
+At sight of the handkerchief--a mere wisp of wet cambric--her sense of
+injury stung her afresh, and once more her lips began to quiver; but
+fate had decided against further tears. Before her grief had gathered
+force, the bell of the hall-door sounded once more long and loudly; and
+hard upon the sound the door of the room opened.
+
+With a start of confusion she sprang to her feet, and turned to confront
+Norris, standing at a discreet distance, with an apologetic manner and
+downcast eyes.
+
+"Mr. Bale-Corphew, ma'am," she murmured, as Enid looked at her. "I told
+him you were not at home; but he said he would wait till whenever he
+could see you, it didn't matter how long."
+
+With a little cry of dismay and annoyance, Enid put her hands to her
+disordered hair.
+
+"Oh, how stupid of you!" she cried, tremulously. "You know I can't see
+him. You know I won't see him. Tell him I'm out--ill--anything you can
+think of--" But her voice suddenly faltered, and her words ended in a
+gasp, as she glanced from the servant to the door, which had abruptly
+reopened, displaying the face and figure of Bale-Corphew himself.
+
+Without hesitation he had entered the room; and without hesitation he
+walked straight towards her.
+
+"Forgive me!" he exclaimed. "I know this must seem unpardonable; but the
+occasion is without precedent. May I speak with you alone?"
+
+In the moment of his entry, and during his hurried greeting, Enid had
+mastered her agitation. She looked at him now with an attempt at
+calmness.
+
+"Certainly, if you have anything to say."
+
+In the excitement under which he was obviously laboring, he did not
+observe the coldness of the granted permission. He waited with
+ill-concealed impatience until Norris had withdrawn, then he turned to
+her afresh.
+
+"Mrs. Witcherley!" he cried, "you see before you an outraged man!"
+
+He made the announcement fiercely and theatrically; but, to any ear, it
+would have been evident that, below the instinctive desire for dramatic
+effect, his voice trembled with genuine agitation--his speech was
+charged with violent feeling. To Enid, watching him with surprise and
+curiosity, it was patent at a glance that some circumstance, strange in
+its occurrence or vital in its issue, had shaken him to the base of his
+emotional nature. And as she looked at him her own coldness, her own
+humiliation, suddenly forsook her.
+
+"What is it?" she cried, involuntarily. "What is it? Something has
+happened?"
+
+For one moment his answer was delayed--held back by the torrent of words
+that rushed to his lips; then, at last, as his tongue freed itself, he
+threw out his hands in a fierce gesture.
+
+"Outrage! Outrage and sacrilege!" he cried. "We have been
+duped--deceived--tricked. We, the Chosen--the Elect!"
+
+"Duped? Deceived?" She echoed the words, faintly. "What do you mean?
+What has happened?"
+
+"Everything! Everything!" Again he threw out his hands. "This man that
+we have called Prophet--this man that we have bent the knee to--he is
+nothing; nothing--" Once more emotion overpowered his words.
+
+"Nothing?" Enid's voice was indistinct, her tongue dry.
+
+"--Nothing but an impostor! An impostor! A thief!"
+
+He spoke loudly--even violently. To his listener it seemed that his
+voice rang out, filling the room, filling the street outside, filling
+the whole world. As she had done in the Prophet's presence, she raised
+her hands and pressed them over her ears. But, even through her fingers,
+his tones came loud and penetrating.
+
+"An impostor!" he cried, again. "A liar! A blasphemer!"
+
+Her hands dropped from her face.
+
+"Stop! Stop!" she cried, weakly.
+
+But he was beyond appeal.
+
+"You must hear!" he cried. "It is ordained. You have been the unwitting
+instrument by which the man has fallen."
+
+"I? I? The instrument?" She stared at him with wide eyes and a white
+face.
+
+"Yes, you!" He stepped to her side. "Without you, suspicion would never
+have been aroused. Without you, he might have carried out his base
+designs. It was the power of the Unseen that guided me on the day I
+entered the Presence Room and found you alone with him." He spoke
+hurriedly and disjointedly, but as the last word left his lips another
+expression crossed his face, as though a new suggestion passed through
+his mind.
+
+"Did you see nothing strange in that Audience?" he demanded. "Did you
+see nothing strange in the fact that he--a Prophet of Sublime
+Mysteries--should hold your hand, as any man of the earth might hold
+it?" He bent still closer, jealousy and suspicion darkening his face.
+
+Enid glanced at him fearfully. "No! No!" she said, sharply. "I--saw
+nothing strange. He was the Prophet."
+
+Bale-Corphew's face relaxed.
+
+"Ah!" he said, slowly. "I believe you. But, if _you_ were blind, _I_
+saw." He paused and passed his handkerchief over his face. Cold as the
+day was, drops of perspiration stood upon his forehead.
+
+"I saw. And from that hour the man was lost."
+
+"Lost?"
+
+"Yes, lost." He laughed excitedly; and to Enid the laugh sounded
+singularly unpleasant, sharp, and cruel. "From that day we have watched
+him--we, the Six. We have watched him and his friend--the dog who has
+dared to desecrate the name of Precursor. We have watched them night
+and day; we have seen them, listened to them hour after hour, while they
+believed themselves unobserved--?"
+
+"And what do you know? What have you learned?" There was a strange
+faintness in the tone of her voice.
+
+"Everything. Only yesterday we touched the key-stone of their scheme.
+To-night--this very night--they have planned an escape. They will attend
+as usual in the Place; they will fool us as they have fooled us before;
+and then, when the house is quiet--when the Six are at rest, exhausted
+by prayer and meditation--they will accomplish their vile work. They
+will plunder the Treasury of the Unseen!"
+
+"Oh no! No!" With a swift movement she turned to him.
+
+He looked at her for an instant, of silence, and then again the
+unpleasant, excited laugh escaped him.
+
+"You are right," he cried, suddenly. "What you say is right. There will
+be no plunder. The Treasury of the Unseen will remain inviolate!"
+
+As he paused she made no sound; but her eyes rested upon his, fascinated
+by their feverish brightness; and in the midst of her silent regard he
+spoke again, bending forward until his lips approached her ear.
+
+"They have laid their plans," he whispered, with a sudden and savage
+exultation, "but we also have laid ours. And even we cannot reckon upon
+the consequences. The spiritual enthusiast is not easy to hold in check,
+once he has been aroused!"
+
+Enid stared at him, the pupils of her eyes dilated, her lips pale.
+
+"You mean--? You mean--?" she stammered; then her fear found voice.
+"What do you mean?" she demanded, in sharp, alarmed tones.
+
+Bale-Corphew met her question, steadily.
+
+"I mean," he said, with fierce vindictiveness, "that at the Gathering
+to-night he will be publicly denounced!"
+
+He made the declaration slowly, and each word fell with overwhelming
+weight upon his companion's understanding. As in the bewildered mazes of
+a nightmare she saw the crowded chapel, the fanatical, unstable faces of
+the congregation, the six Arch-Mystics--outraged, incensed, unrelenting;
+and in their midst the Prophet, tall and grave and masterful, as she had
+seen him a hundred times. One man facing a sea of ungoverned emotion! At
+the vision her heart swelled suddenly and her soul sickened. With a
+gesture, almost as passionate as his own, she turned upon Bale-Corphew.
+
+"You would denounce him before the People?" she said, incredulously.
+"You would trap him? One man against a hundred! Oh, it would be
+cowardly! Cruel!"
+
+Bale-Corphew's face flamed to a deeper red.
+
+"Cowardly? Cowardly? Do you know what you are saying? The man is a
+thief!"
+
+For one moment she shrank before the epithet; the next she raised her
+head, her eyes flashing, her lips parted.
+
+"You have no right to use that word. You have not seen him steal."
+
+"Seen him? No. But the ears are as reliable as the eyes, and we have
+heard him declare that he intends to steal."
+
+"Intends! Intends! Intentions are not acts." In her deep agitation, she
+turned upon him with a new demeanor.
+
+"Oh, be merciful!" she cried. "Give him the benefit of mercy. Wait till
+the Assembly is over, and then accuse him. If you can prove your
+accusation, then justice can be done. On the other hand--"
+
+"The other hand?" Again Bale-Corphew's cruel laugh broke from him. "He
+has not shrunk from lies--from imposture--from blasphemy. Is it likely
+he will shrink from his reward? Oh no! We will run no risks. The trap
+has closed. No one will gain access to him to-night until the hour of
+the Gathering has arrived. It will be my special--my sacred--duty to
+watch and guard." As he spoke his eyes seemed to devour her face, and
+before the expression in their depths her strength faltered.
+
+"And why have you come here?" she asked, unsteadily. "Why have you come
+here? What has this to do with me?"
+
+As she put the questions, he watched her closely; and when her voice
+quivered, a spasm of emotion--a wave of jealousy and suspicion--swept
+his face.
+
+"Can you ask that question?" he demanded.
+
+Enid wavered.
+
+"Why not?" she murmured. "Why should I not?"
+
+"Why not?" He laughed again, suddenly and savagely. "Because the man
+loves you. Because he stole out of the house to-day--and came here to
+you. I tracked him here and tracked him back again."
+
+Enid shrank away from him.
+
+"So--so you are a spy?" she said, in a confused, uneven voice.
+
+He turned instantly, his passions aflame.
+
+"A spy?" he cried. "I am a spy? Very well! We will see who comes out
+victor. The thief or the spy." His voice rose, his face darkened. The
+demon of jealousy that had pursued him for seven days was free of the
+leash at last.
+
+"I wanted to know this," he exclaimed. "I wanted to be sure. I had my
+suspicions, but I wanted proof. On the day I surprised you with him, I
+suspected; to-day, when I saw him enter this house, I felt convinced--"
+
+"Convinced of what?"
+
+"Convinced that there is more in this matter than his love for you. That
+there is also--"
+
+With a swift movement Enid stopped him. She was quivering violently, but
+she held her head high.
+
+"Yes," she said, distinctly. "Yes, you are quite right. There is more in
+this matter than his love for me. There is also my love for him!"
+
+Her eyes were blazing; her heart was beating fast. With an agitation
+equal to Bale-Corphew's own she moved to the fireplace and pressed the
+bell.
+
+When the servant appeared she turned to her.
+
+"Norris," she said, in a quiet voice, "show Mr. Bale-Corphew out."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+There are few phases of human existence more interesting than that in
+which a young and sensitive woman is compelled by circumstances to cast
+aside the pleasant artifices, the carefully modulated emotions of a
+sheltered life, and to face the realities of fact and feeling.
+
+For twenty-three years Enid Witcherley had played with existence--toying
+with it, enjoying it, as an epicure enjoys a rare wine or a choice
+morsel of food prepared for his appreciation. Now, as she stood alone in
+her small drawing-room with its costly decorations, its feminine
+atmosphere, she was conscious for the first time that the banquet of
+life is not in reality a display of delicate viands and tempting
+vintages, but a meal of common bread--sweet or bitter as destiny
+decrees. She saw this, and with a flash of comprehension knew and
+acknowledged that her heart and her brain cried out for the wholesome
+necessary food.
+
+An hour ago, when the Prophet had stood before her and made his
+confession, she had been overwhelmed by the tide of her own feelings; in
+the rush of humiliation and disappointment--in the tremendous knowledge
+that the image she had called gold was in reality but clay--she had been
+too mortified to see beyond her own horizon. In that moment their places
+in the drama had been indisputably allotted. She herself had appeared
+the unoffending heroine, unjustly humiliated in her own eyes and in the
+eyes of others; he had stood out, in unpardonable guise, the cause--the
+instrument--of that humiliation. In the bitter knowledge she had
+confronted him unrelentingly. A spoiled child--an unreasoning feminine
+egoist.
+
+But now that moment, with its instructive and primitive emotions, was
+passed by what seemed months--years--a century. By a process of mind as
+swift as it was subtle, the child had grown into a woman--the egoist had
+become conscious of another existence. With the entrance of
+Bale-Corphew--with the sound of her own denunciation upon his lips--a
+new feeling had awakened within her--a feeling stronger than
+humiliation, stronger than pride. It had risen, blinding and dazzling
+her, as a great light might blind and dazzle; and she stood glorified
+and exalted within its radiance.
+
+As the door had closed upon her second visitor, a long sobbing sigh of
+excitement, of tumultuous joy and fear shook her from head to foot; she
+involuntarily drew her figure to its full height, and covered her face
+with both hands, as though to ward off the light that lay across her
+world.
+
+But the great moment of joy and comprehension could not last; other and
+more insistent factors were at work within her mind--claiming, even
+demanding attention. Almost as the outer door closed upon Bale-Corphew,
+her hands dropped to her sides and an expression akin to terror crossed
+her eyes. With a mind rendered supersensitive by its own emotions, she
+realized what the next five hours might hold; and like a tangible menace
+the dark, angry face of the Arch-Mystic flashed back upon her
+consciousness.
+
+While he had been present in the room, while his turbulent voice had
+filled her ears, she had been only partly alive to the threatened
+danger; but now that his presence had been removed, now that she was
+free to sift the meaning of his words, their full significance was borne
+in upon her. With an alarming clearness of vision, she recognized that
+behind his threats lay a definite meaning; that the man himself, at all
+times passionate, and, on occasion, violent in temperament, had
+suddenly become a danger--something as fierce and menacing as an
+uncontrolled element.
+
+She realized and understood this rapidly, as only the mind knows and
+comprehends in moments of stress and crisis; and before her knowledge,
+all ideas save one fell away like chaff before the wind. At all
+costs--in face of every obstacle--she must warn and save the Prophet!
+
+With a start of apprehension, she glanced at the clock and saw that the
+hands marked ten minutes to seven. Moving to the fireplace, she once
+more pressed the bell; and as Norris answered, turned to her, heedless
+for perhaps the first time in her life of outward appearances.
+
+"Get me my long black cloak, Norris," she said. "And a black hat and
+veil. I am going out."
+
+Norris's face expressed no surprise.
+
+"You will be back to dinner, ma'am?" she inquired.
+
+"No. I shall not want dinner. I may not be back till ten--perhaps
+eleven. If I am late, no one need wait up." She walked to a mirror and
+began nervously smoothing her ruffled hair, while Norris left the room,
+and returned with the desired garments.
+
+With the same nervous haste she put on her hat, tied the thick veil over
+her face, and allowed herself to be helped into her cloak. Then, without
+a word, she crossed the drawing-room, passed through the hall of the
+flat, and entered the lift.
+
+At the street-door she was compelled to wait while the hall-porter
+called a cab; and the momentary delay almost overtaxed her patience. An
+audible sound of relief escaped her when the clatter of hoofs and jingle
+of bells announced that the wait was over.
+
+"St. George's Terrace!" she ordered, in a low voice, and it seemed to
+her perturbed mind that even the stolid attendant must find something
+portentous in the words; then she sank into the corner of the cab and
+closed her eyes, as she heard her order repeated to the cabman, and felt
+the horse swing forward into the stream of traffic.
+
+More than once she altered her position as the distance between
+Knightsbridge and St. George's Terrace lessened. She was devoured by
+impatience and yet paralyzed by dread. Once, as the cab halted in a
+block of traffic, she heard a clock strike seven, and at the sound the
+blood rushed to her face as she thought of the nearness of her ordeal;
+but an instant later she drew out her watch to verify the time, and
+paled with sudden apprehension as she realized that the clock was slow.
+
+So her mind oscillated until the cab drew up beside the curb; and, with
+a nervous start, she heard the cabman open the trap-door.
+
+"What number, lady?" he asked.
+
+[Illustration: "HER HAND WAS TREMBLING AS SHE RAISED THE HEAVY KNOCKER"]
+
+She answered almost guiltily: "No number! Just stop here! Put me down
+here!" She rose, gathering her long cloak about her.
+
+Try as she might, she could not control her excitement, as she crossed
+the roadway and entered Hellier Crescent after a week's absence. Her
+hand was trembling as she raised the heavy knocker on the familiar door;
+and her voice shook as she repeated the necessary formula.
+
+There was a slight delay--a slight hesitancy on the part of the
+door-keeper; then the slide, which had opened at her knock, closed with
+a click, and the massive door swung back.
+
+She stepped forward eagerly, but on the moment that she entered the hall
+her heart sank. With a thrill of apprehension she saw that in place of
+the humble member of the congregation who usually attended there, the
+tall, fair-bearded Arch-Mystic known as George Norov was guarding the
+door. Small though the incident might appear, it conveyed to her, as no
+spoken declaration could have done, the spirit of action and vigilance
+reigning in the House.
+
+While the thought flashed through her mind, Norov surveyed her from his
+great height.
+
+"You are in good time, my child; the Gathering is for eight o'clock."
+
+She looked up at him.
+
+"Yes," she said, quickly. "I know it is for eight o'clock, but I have
+come early. I have come because I wish--" Her courage faltered before
+the intent, searching gaze of his blue eyes.
+
+"I have come," she added, with gathered resolution, "because I desire
+private Audience with the Prophet--because there is something on my Soul
+of which I must unburden myself."
+
+The Arch-Mystic looked at her and his eyes seemed cold as steel.
+
+"The Prophet holds private Audience only in the morning," he replied, in
+an even voice.
+
+Enid flushed.
+
+"I know that. But there are exceptions to the rule--"
+
+The Arch-Mystic shook his head.
+
+"The Prophet holds private Audience only in the morning."
+
+"But the Prophet is generous. Five minutes alone with him will satisfy
+me--three minutes--two minutes--" Her tone quickened as her anxiety
+increased.
+
+Still Norov's blue eyes met hers unswervingly.
+
+"The Prophet holds private Audience only in the morning."
+
+At the second repetition her apprehension rose to fear; and in her
+alarmed trepidation she conceived a new idea. With a rapid searching
+glance her eyes travelled over the Arch-Mystic's powerful figure, while
+she mentally measured his physical strength with that of the Prophet.
+Her survey was short and comprehensive; and her decision came with
+equal speed. With a subtle change of manner and voice she made a fresh
+appeal. Turning to him with a gesture of deference, she spoke again in a
+soft and conciliatory voice.
+
+"Of course, you are right in what you say," she murmured. "But I am
+going to make an appeal. If I may not see the Prophet in private
+Audience, then let me see him in your presence! I have only a dozen
+words to say; and, if necessary, I will say them in your presence. You
+can see it is urgent, when I am willing to humiliate myself. It is only
+for her Soul that a woman will conquer her pride. You won't deny peace
+to my Soul?" Her voice dropped, her whole expression pleaded.
+
+For a moment--for just one moment--it seemed to her desperate gaze that
+his hard blue eyes softened; the next, their cold, unyielding glance
+disillusioned her of hope.
+
+"It is useless to appeal to me," he said; "but if you very much desire
+it, you can make your request to my brother Mystic--Horatio
+Bale-Corphew. He is guarding the Prophet's Threshold."
+
+Whether the man had any glimmering of knowledge as to her private
+connection with Bale-Corphew and the Prophet was not to be read from his
+austere face. His words might have been spoken in all innocence, or
+might have been spoken deliberately and with malice. But in either case
+the result, so far as his listener was concerned, was the same. A sense
+of frightened impotence fell upon her--a knowledge that her enemy had a
+longer reach and a more powerful arm than she had guessed.
+
+By a great effort she controlled her feelings.
+
+"Thank you!" she said, quietly, "but I will not trouble Mr.
+Bale-Corphew. If I may, I will wait in the Place until the Gathering is
+assembled."
+
+Her companion bent his head.
+
+"Permission is granted!" he said.
+
+For a moment longer she stood, burning with apprehensive dread. On one
+hand was the Prophet--trapped and unaware of his peril; on the other was
+Bale-Corphew--implacable, enraged, unrelaxing in his pursuit. She waited
+irresolute, until the cold, inquiring gaze of the Arch-Mystic made
+action compulsory; then, scarcely conscious of the movement, she
+inclined her head in mechanical acknowledgment of his courtesy, and,
+turning away, passed down the lofty, sombre hall.
+
+Never in after-life was she able to remember, with any degree of
+distinctness, her threading of the familiar corridors leading to the
+chapel. Her consciousness of outer things was numbed by mental strife.
+Reaching the heavy curtain that shut off the sacred precinct, she thrust
+it aside with nervous impetuosity and stood looking around the deserted
+chapel--glancing from the rows of empty chairs to the Sanctuary, where
+the great golden Throne stood shrouded in a white cloth, and the silver
+censers lay awaiting the flame.
+
+At a first glance it seemed that the chapel was entirely empty, but as
+her eyes grew accustomed to the modulated light diffused by eight large
+tapers, she saw that the Sanctuary was occupied by one sombre figure
+that flitted silently between the lectern and the Throne. For an instant
+her heart leaped, for the man was of the same height and build as the
+Precursor; but a second glance put her hopes to flight. The Mystic
+within the Sanctuary was the humble member of the congregation whose
+duty it was to wait upon the Prophet.
+
+As she passed slowly and automatically up the aisle, the man turned and
+looked at her; but after a cursory glance returned to his task of
+setting the Sanctuary in order.
+
+The look and the evident unconcern chilled and daunted her anew. With a
+movement of despair she paused, and sank into one of the empty chairs.
+
+For a space that seemed eternal, she sat huddled in her seat--her hands
+clasped nervously in her lap; her ears alert to catch the slightest
+sound; her eyes unconsciously following the movements of the man within
+the Sanctuary; then, suddenly and abruptly, the tension snapped; and
+action--action of some description--became imperative. She rose from her
+seat.
+
+After she had risen, she stood aimlessly looking about her at the
+black-and-white walls, at the rows of chairs, at the gleaming octagonal
+symbol that hung from the roof; then, as if magnetically attracted, her
+glance travelled back to the man inside the Sanctuary rail.
+
+There was nothing remarkable in the spare figure, moving reverently from
+one sacred object to another; but as her eyes rested on the colorless,
+ascetic face, her own cheeks flushed with a new hope--a new inspiration.
+With a quick movement she glanced furtively behind her; and, stepping
+carefully between the chairs, regained the aisle and moved swiftly and
+noiselessly up the chapel.
+
+Her heart was beating so fast, the nervous strain was so intense, that
+when she reached the railing she stood for a moment unable to command
+her voice. And when the Mystic--becoming suddenly aware of her near
+presence--turned and confronted her, a faint sound of nervous alarm
+slipped from her.
+
+For a space the two looked at each other; and at last the man appeared
+to realize that something was expected of him. Bending his head, he
+uttered the formula of the sect.
+
+"In what can I serve you?"
+
+The familiar words braced Enid. She glanced at him afresh, and in that
+glance her plan of action arranged itself. For one moment, as she had
+walked up the aisle, her hand had sought her purse, but now, as she
+scanned the ascetic face of this unworldly servant, her fingers
+involuntarily loosened and the purse slipped back into her pocket. With
+a new resolve, she looked him straight in the eyes.
+
+"You can do me a great service--a very great service," she said,
+quietly, in her soft, clear voice.
+
+The man looked at her in slow inquiry.
+
+"Oh, I know you are surprised," she added, quickly. "I know this seems
+unusual--" She paused in momentary hesitation.
+
+The Mystic appeared distressed.
+
+"My--my duty--" he broke in, uneasily. "My duty is to--"
+
+But she checked him suddenly.
+
+[Illustration: "I AM IN NEED OF HELP ... AND YOU CAN HELP ME"]
+
+"Charity is greater than duty!" she said, in a low, impressive tone. By
+the same feminine intuition that had made her discard her purse, she saw
+that by a semi-mystical appeal--and by that alone--could she hope to
+succeed. Laying her hands upon the Sanctuary railing, she leaned
+forward, and raised her large eyes to the man's face.
+
+"Which do _you_ consider the greater virtue?" she asked. "Duty or
+charity?"
+
+The Mystic looked at her.
+
+"Charity," he said, at last, hesitatingly, "the Prophet teaches us--"
+
+Enid's face flushed.
+
+"Yes! yes!" she cried. "The Prophet teaches us that charity is the
+greater virtue. He tells us that we are to rely upon ourselves--and also
+upon each other. We are to help ourselves--and to help each other." Her
+voice shook, her face glowed in her excitement and suspense.
+
+"I am in need of help," she added. "In desperate need. And you can help
+me."
+
+Her tone was urgent, her compelling gaze never faltered. She knew that
+this was her last chance--that, if this man failed her, catastrophe was
+inevitable.
+
+The Mystic stirred uncomfortably, and his glance turned half fearfully
+from the intent, appealing face to the lectern on which rested the
+white-bound Scitsym.
+
+With a sudden access of enthusiasm, Enid spoke again.
+
+"There is something troubling my Soul," she said. "Something that I must
+confess to the Prophet to-night. My whole happiness--all my
+peace--depends upon confessing it. I cannot speak with him before the
+Gathering assembles; but I can write my confession. Will you save my
+Soul? Will you carry my confession to him?"
+
+Until the words were actually spoken, she did not realize how immensely
+she had staked upon her chances of success. In a fever of anxiety she
+waited, watching the man's gaze as it wavered undecidedly over the
+Scitsym, then returned, as if magnetized, to her face.
+
+"In twenty minutes the Gathering will be assembled," he murmured.
+
+"I know, I know. But there is still time. It is a matter of--of
+faith--of peace of mind."
+
+The man shuffled his feet.
+
+"It--it is impossible," he said.
+
+"Why impossible?"
+
+"Because the Prophet is exalted to-night. The Arch-Mystics themselves
+are guarding the Threshold. The Prophet is exalted; he must not be
+disturbed."
+
+"But if it is necessary to disturb him? If there is a Soul in danger?"
+
+"The Prophet must not be disturbed. What are we, that we should thrust
+our wrong-doing or our sorrow upon the Mighty One?"
+
+At the words a rage of apprehension shook Enid. She lifted her head, and
+her fingers closed fiercely round the iron bar that topped the railing.
+
+"Silence!" she said, excitedly. "You do not know what you are saying!
+The Prophet sets his people high above himself. The message of a Soul
+in distress is of more value in his eyes than a hundred moments of
+exaltation. Take care that his wrath does not fall upon you!"
+
+Involuntarily the man paled.
+
+"Yes. Take care!" she cried. "Take care! You have the well-being--the
+whole future--of one Soul in your hands to-night. How will you answer to
+the Prophet, if you fail in the trust?"
+
+The Mystic cowered.
+
+"If you fail, the wrong can never be repaired. And the doing of the
+action will cost you nothing. Take this note--" With agitated haste she
+tore a leaf from a tiny note-book that hung at her waist. "Take this
+note. Tell no one. Give it into the Prophet's own hands--" She drew out
+a pencil and wrote a few enigmatical words. "Give it into his own hands;
+and I can promise you that your reward will be greater than you think."
+With a rapid movement, she roiled up the paper and held it out to him.
+
+"Take it," she said, impressively. "And remember that it is something
+important, essential--sacred." On the last word her voice rose; then,
+without warning, it suddenly broke.
+
+A curtain at the back of the Sanctuary had been drawn aside; and for the
+second time that evening, the face of Bale-Corphew confronted her
+through the dusk.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+For one instant Enid stood spellbound; then involuntarily she stepped
+backward, crumpling the slip of paper in her hand.
+
+At the same movement Bale-Corphew advanced and, passing the Mystic,
+indicated the Sanctuary curtain.
+
+"Go!" he commanded, in an unsteady voice. And as the man slunk away, he
+wheeled round and confronted Enid.
+
+"So this is your action?" he said, tremulously. "This is your conception
+of honor? Truly, woman is the undoing of man!" With an excited gesture,
+he lifted his hand and extended it towards the white Scitsym lying upon
+the lectern.
+
+But Enid met his attack with the courage that sometimes outlives hope.
+
+"A just man need fear no woman!" she exclaimed. "It is because you are
+unjust and a coward that you fear--that you suspect--that you find it
+necessary to hide and spy."
+
+The color surged over his face.
+
+"I have been outraged!" he cried--"I have been outraged!"
+
+"And, like an unreasoning animal, you turn to devour the thing that has
+hurt you?"
+
+"I demand justice."
+
+She threw out her hands and laughed suddenly and hysterically.
+
+"And you call this justice? You call it justice to trap one man and set
+a hundred others loose upon him?"
+
+But Bale-Corphew turned upon her.
+
+"And what is this man to you?" he cried. "What spell has he cast upon
+you that you can forget his outrage and his blasphemy?"
+
+Enid met the question with her new fortitude; searching Bale-Corphew's
+turbulent face, she answered with a certain high simplicity.
+
+"I do not know," she said. "Once I believed that I admired him--that I
+looked up to him--because he was a Prophet; something higher and better
+than myself. Now I know that my belief was wrong and false; that it was
+because he is a man--because, before everything else in the world, he is
+a man--that I turned to him, that I relied upon him."
+
+Bale-Corphew gave a short, cruel laugh.
+
+"So that is it? That is the secret? He is a man? Well, I will strip him
+of his manhood! We have had our disillusioning; yours is to come. Here,
+on this sacred spot where he has been so exalted, he will bite the
+dust."
+
+He paused triumphantly; and in the pause there rose again to Enid's mind
+the picture of one tall, white-robed figure confronting a sea of
+faces--all incensed--all passionately, vindictively unanimous in
+desire.
+
+"Oh no!" she said, suddenly, faltering before the picture. "No! No! You
+cannot. You must not. Be merciful! Let him go. And if there is
+anything--any recompense--" But even as it was spoken, the appeal died.
+Somewhere in the heart of the House a solemn clock chimed the hour of
+eight; and as though the sound were a signal, the curtain of the chapel
+door was drawn softly back, and a stream of dark-robed figures poured
+over the empty floor.
+
+For a moment she stood immovable before the imminence of the crucial
+scene; then, with a sensation of physical weakness and helplessness, she
+turned, moved blindly forward, and sank into a vacant seat.
+
+At the same moment Bale-Corphew left her without a word, and passed
+rapidly down the aisle.
+
+Great fear frequently exercises a paralyzing effect upon the body. With
+the undeniable knowledge that the time for action--the time for
+hope--was irrevocably passed, Enid felt deprived of the power to move.
+She sat crouching in her seat, every sense alive and strained, but with
+limbs that were overpowered and weighted as if by tangible fetters.
+
+Thrilling to this numb and impotent sense of dread, she heard the
+devotees enter the chapel, one after another, and pass to their chosen
+seats with soft, gliding steps. With a sickening knowledge of
+approaching catastrophe, she saw another of the unconventional
+black-robed servants emerge from behind the Sanctuary curtain, and
+proceed with maddening deliberation to light the sixteen groups of wax
+tapers that were set at intervals along the walls. Mechanically her eyes
+followed the man's movements; and it seemed that each new taper that
+spat, flickered, and shot up into a light was a symbol, a portent of the
+scene to come.
+
+As the last candle was lighted, the shuffling of feet and the stir of
+garments that, since the entry of the first devotee, had unceasingly
+filled the chapel suddenly subsided, and nerved to motion by the lull,
+she turned and glanced behind her.
+
+The scene, familiar though it was, impressed her anew. It was a strange
+effect in black and white. The black clothes of the congregation seemed
+massed together in a sombre blur; their strained, fanatical faces looked
+white and set; while the marble walls shone out, sharp and polished, in
+the same contrasting hues. Over the whole scene the concentrated light
+and accentuated shadow thrown by the great sconces glowing with tapers,
+made a variation of tone almost as vivid as that seen on a moonlight
+night.
+
+Unconsciously she recognized the curious, the almost barbaric
+picturesqueness of light and grouping; but her eyes had barely skimmed
+the scene when the meaning of the hush that filled the place was brought
+home to her mind.
+
+Glancing towards the curtain that hid the entrance, she saw the figure
+of the Prophet move slowly into the chapel and pass up the aisle,
+attended by the Precursor and the Six Arch-Mystics.
+
+He moved forward with grave, dignified steps, and with a head held even
+higher than usual, and reaching the Sanctuary gate, passed through it
+without hesitation.
+
+The action was so calm--so natural--so like what she had witnessed night
+after night--that Enid sat newly petrified, her senses striving to
+associate this strong figure with the man who, only a few hours before,
+had humiliated himself in her presence. For a moment her mind refused
+the connection of ideas; but the next a full realization of the position
+swept over her, galvanizing her mentally and physically, as she turned
+in her seat and glanced at the seven who were following in the wake.
+
+[Illustration: "SHE SAW THE FIGURE OF THE PROPHET ... ATTENDED BY THE
+PRECURSOR AND THE SIX ARCH-MYSTICS"]
+
+First behind his master came the Precursor. And to Enid's searching
+gaze it seemed that his face was set into unfamiliar and anxious lines;
+but under his black cap and red hair, his skin looked colorless and
+drawn. But after the first glance, her eyes were not for him; with swift
+apprehension they passed to the six Arch-Mystics who, walking two and
+two, formed the procession.
+
+Animated by the speed of actual fear, her gaze passed from the
+abnormally agitated face of old Arian, the blind Arch-Councillor, to the
+dark, turbulent face of Bale-Corphew, who brought up the rear. The
+survey was rapid and comprehensive; and to her uneasy mind the thought
+came with unerring certainty that, on all the six faces--differing so
+markedly in physical characteristics--there was a common look of
+suppressed excitement, of suppressed resolve.
+
+As they passed her seat, Norov turned and shot a glance of cold
+curiosity in her direction; but otherwise the whole group seemed
+unaware of her presence. Still inert, she sat, watching every movement
+in the scene before her as one might watch a drama that would, at a
+given moment, cease to be entertainment and become real life.
+
+Very quietly the Prophet advanced to the Scitsym and, following the
+customary routine, opened it and began to read.
+
+The words were a strange jargon of mystical counsel interspersed with
+the relation of mystical visions and ecstasies. On ordinary lips, the
+long, disjointed sentences and disconnected phrases would have sounded
+vague and incomprehensible; but, from the first, it had been one of the
+Prophet's special gifts that his deep, grave voice could lend weight and
+meaning to the fantastic utterances. And to-night it seemed that he
+intended to put forth all his powers; for scarcely had he opened the
+book and begun to read, than a stir of interest passed over the
+congregation; and even Enid, enmeshed in her own terrors, bent forward
+involuntarily.
+
+He spoke very slowly, enunciating every word with studied seriousness;
+and from time to time he paused and looked across the sea of fixed and
+almost adoring faces turned in his direction. It was as if, by strength
+of will, he had determined that no point, no syllable, of this, his last
+reading, should be lost upon his hearers. More than once, Bale-Corphew
+moved uneasily and shot a glance at Norov; but the Prophet was
+unconscious of these surreptitious signs.
+
+For half an hour he read on, slowly, distinctly, impressively; then,
+still following the routine of the evening service, he closed the book
+and calmly moved across the Sanctuary to the Throne. As he neared it,
+the Precursor stepped forward deferentially and conducted him to the
+foot of the gilt steps.
+
+Having ascended, he took his seat with calm impassivity and, resting his
+hands upon the arms of the great gold chair, looked out once more upon
+the massed faces. This, according to custom, was the signal for a
+general movement. The congregation swayed forward, prostrating
+themselves upon the ground, while the Arch-Mystics gathered their wide,
+black robes about them and assumed attitudes of rapt contemplation.
+
+In obedience to usage, Enid also dropped upon her knees and covered her
+face with her hands. But though her pose was conventional, there was
+little place in her thoughts for either prayer or meditation. One
+idea--and one only--absorbed her being. How, and at what moment, must
+she gather strength to act? She crouched upon the ground, her hands
+pressed tightly over her eyes. It seemed to her that all the torture,
+all the suspense and apprehension of the universe, were gathered into
+that half-hour of appalling silence. Once she ventured to unlace her
+fingers and glance through them fearfully; but at sight of the Prophet,
+calm, impassive, unconscious of his threatened danger--at sight of the
+six sombre shrouded figures that sat inside the Sanctuary railing, her
+blood turned cold and her courage quailed.
+
+When the sign that ended the evening's meditation was given, she rose
+with the rest and sank weakly into her seat. Then, in dumb, stricken
+helplessness such as envelops us in a terrible dream, she saw the
+Prophet rise very slowly and stand on the steps of the Throne, looking
+solemnly down upon the people.
+
+During his change of position, she sat vacillating pitiably. The
+knowledge that in a single moment he would have begun to speak spurred
+her to a fever of alarm, while a terrible nervous incapacity chained her
+limbs and paralyzed her tongue.
+
+Bale-Corphew's words rose to her mind. "He will fool us--as he has
+fooled us before." In the apprehension aroused by the memory, she half
+rose in her chair, her hands grasping the back of the seat in front of
+her; but suddenly the chapel, the lights, the congregation seemed to
+fade from her vision, and she sank back into her place. The Prophet had
+begun to speak.
+
+"My People," he said, very calmly and distinctly, "heretofore I have
+spoken to you as a teacher. To-night I will speak to you as one of
+yourselves."
+
+Something in the tone--something in the words--struck a note of surprise
+and uneasiness. Again Bale-Corphew shot a swift glance at Norov, and old
+Michael Arian lifted his head and strained his sightless eyes towards
+the Throne, while Enid's hands tightened spasmodically on the back of
+the chair in front of her, and her lips parted in new fear. What was he
+going to say? How much further was he going to compromise himself? But
+the body of the congregation swayed forward in absorbed attention, and
+the Prophet continued to survey the fixed faces with grave, steady eyes.
+
+"My People," he said, "you are an unusual gathering. Some would call you
+a gathering of fanatics--some might even call you a gathering of fools.
+But fools, fanatics, or Mystics, you are all men and women. You are all
+human beings!"
+
+Old Arian started, and Norov's cold, blue eyes flashed; but still the
+Prophet was oblivious of their emotion.
+
+"It is always well to study one's own kind; and to-night I am going to
+speak to you of a man. I am going to tell you the story of a man--a man
+as passionate, as headstrong, as weak and vulnerable as you yourselves."
+He halted for a moment, and his glance seemed to grow more concentrated,
+more intense.
+
+"Once, many years ago, there was a boy born here, in this city of
+London. Don't lose patience! My story has the merit of truth.
+
+"There was nothing pleasant, there was nothing easy, in the
+circumstances of this boy's birth. His first sight of the world was
+gained through the window of a tenement-house, and the picture he saw
+was the picture of an alley--dark, foul, teeming with life. His first
+knowledge of existence was the realization of poverty--not the free,
+wholesome poverty of the country, but the grinding, sordid, continuous
+poverty of the town, that no tongue can adequately describe.
+
+"These were his surroundings--this was his environment; and yet--so
+great are the miracles that love can accomplish--every day of that boy's
+life was illumined and glorified by one presence. God in his bounty had
+given him a mother!"
+
+It was the first time in any discourse that he had mentioned the supreme
+Name, and as if conscious of the tremor it aroused, he continued his
+narrative without pause.
+
+"To say that a boy's life is made happier by his mother's existence
+sounds too trite and obvious to bear any weight; but it is through the
+obvious facts of life that the world's machinery is kept in motion. The
+inexpressible, unwearying tenderness of this mother for her son, the
+love of this boy for his mother, grew with the passage of time--grew
+into something so significant, so vital and so deep, that even the
+poisonous atmosphere of the alley could not thwart its growth.
+
+"This feeling grew in the boy's heart; and with it--by a necessary law
+of nature--another feeling took root and grew also. Fired by stories of
+a past, in which wealth and position had been won by his forefathers, he
+conceived the idea of becoming in his own person a hero--a
+knight-errant. And in the grimy, common alley; in the poor, bare
+sitting-room where his mother sewed unendingly; in the dark closet under
+the slates where at night he dreamed his child's dreams, he built
+castles such as never stood upon the hills of Spain!
+
+"The germ of his ambition fell into his soul like a seed of fire; and,
+like a seed of fire, sprang into a flame. At whatever price--at whatever
+sacrifice--there must be a golden future, in which the mother he adored
+would sit in high places; in which the worn hands would never ply a
+needle except for pastime, the frail figure grow straight and strong,
+the pale face warm and brighten with the colors of health!
+
+"It was a very humble, a very young ambition, but it sprang from the
+true, clean source of untainted love, like which there is nothing else
+in all the world." He paused; and from his grave voice it seemed that a
+wave of emotion passed across the chapel. The congregation, too
+fascinated by his words to question their meaning, drew a sigh of rapt
+anticipation. Enid, amazed, bewildered, moved beyond herself, sat
+immovable--her face pale, her great eyes fixed upon the Throne. Only the
+six Arch-Mystics stirred uneasily, glancing at each other with quiet,
+uncertain looks.
+
+Presently, as though he had marshalled his ideas for the continuation of
+his speech, the Prophet raised his hand.
+
+"My People," he began, again, "do not think that I am going to compel
+you to listen to a psychological discourse upon this boy's development.
+That is not my intention. But were I to hold up a picture for your
+inspection, you could not properly appreciate it were you ignorant of
+the art of drawing. And so it is with my story. To understand the
+completed work, you must understand the manner of its growth.
+
+"Though this boy lived in obscurity, he was bound by one link with the
+great things of the world. But for the unjust disinheritance of his
+father, he would have been heir to a vast property; and through all his
+youth, this had been the golden mirage that had floated before his
+vision--this had been the fabled country from which his castle rose.
+Steadily, unfalteringly, one idea had expanded in his mind. By some
+brave action--by some deed of heroism--he was to win back the lost
+inheritance.
+
+"Time passed. And with its passage the wheel of fate revolved. By one of
+those strange chances for which no man can account, the opportunity that
+the boy longed for fell across his path.
+
+"It came. But it came enveloped in no cloud of glory. The path to the
+lost inheritance was steep and rugged and dark. He was called upon to
+leave his mother; to leave the place that, however sordid, however mean,
+was yet his home; and to enter upon a period of servitude with an
+unknown master--a man related to him by blood, whom report described as
+an eccentric--a miser--a madman."
+
+As he said these words a curious thing occurred. A wave of color flushed
+old Arian's sightless face; an inarticulate sound escaped him, and he
+made a tremulous attempt to rise. But the movement was instantly checked
+by Bale-Corphew, who bent close to him and whispered quickly in his ear.
+
+Neither gesture nor whisper was noted by the Prophet. His own face had
+paled as if with some deep emotion; and lowering his raised hand, he
+spoke again with a new, suppressed intensity.
+
+"Then began the vital period of that boy's career. He left his home--he
+left the mother he loved--he went into voluntary exile, animated by one
+purpose. Remember that, my People! He went into the service of this man
+animated by one purpose--the determination to win back his rightful
+fortune! And for seven weary years he continued his pursuit. For the
+seven most vital years of his youth he suppressed every instinct that
+animates a boy!
+
+"He worked more laboriously than the laborer in the fields, for mental
+servitude is more galling to the young than any physical strain. But he
+never faltered; and at last he had the pride of knowing that his end was
+gained--he had the pride of knowing that he had become indispensable to
+the master whom he served!" Again he paused, but this time the pause was
+of impressive weight. Unconsciously, and without analyzing the feeling,
+every member of the congregation felt that some announcement was
+pending--that some extraordinary revelation was about to be made.
+
+Enid sat rigid, holding her breath in an agony of suspense, fascinated
+and appalled by the incomprehensible discourse. Behind the high
+railing, old Michael Arian's lips moved rapidly and nervously, as though
+he were muttering inaudible prayers; while Bale-Corphew's florid face
+flamed, as, with a rapid, agitated movement, he glanced over the tense
+faces of the congregation. For one moment it seemed that he was bracing
+himself for action, but before his intentions could bear fruit, the
+voice of the Prophet again rang out across the chapel.
+
+"My People!" he said. "It is now that I appeal to your humanity! It is
+now that I ask each one of you--men and women--to stand in this boy's
+place--this boy, built like yourselves of human desires, human hopes,
+human weaknesses. After seven long years he touched the knowledge that
+he had become indispensable; and the bearer of that knowledge was
+Death--his master's master!
+
+"Death came; and in his chill presence the boy saw his task
+completed--laid aside like a written scroll!
+
+"It was the most glorious moment of his life--that moment in which he
+stood with unshaken faith, looking towards the future. But the darker
+side of existence was his portion; he had been born to the darker side.
+Within one hour of his master's death, his dreams were dispelled. He
+learned that, in the eyes of the man he had served, he had never passed
+beyond the position of the outcast--the dependent, whose services are
+liberally rewarded by the gift of a few hundred pounds. The fortune--the
+inheritance--the golden mirage, was no longer existent, save as
+something that did not concern him. By the disposition of his master's
+will, it had passed into the coffers of a religious body--a fantastic,
+unknown sect to which the old man had belonged!"
+
+The announcement fell with strange effect. Enid, inspired by sudden
+terror, rose to her feet; Bale-Corphew sat gripping the arm of his
+chair, his face contorted, his mouth working, while a rustle, an
+audible murmur of excitement passed over the whole chapel, and the
+Precursor, who all along had been crouching at the foot of the throne,
+turned quickly and anxiously towards his master.
+
+But the Prophet reassured him by a gesture. It seemed that he was
+exalted by some emotion, lifted above his surroundings by some invisible
+power.
+
+"Put yourselves in this boy's place!" he cried. "Was there ever a
+position so intensely human? The thing he had striven for--the thing he
+needed inordinately--had been wrenched from him by a band of people who,
+in his eyes, were either fools or knaves. What would you have done in
+his position? What would have been your impulse? What your instinct? If
+I know anything of human nature, it would have been the same as
+his--precisely, accurately the same as his!
+
+"He had known for years of this sect to which his master belonged; and
+for years he had held it in contempt. In his normal, youthful eyes, the
+idea of a creed that denied the high, simple theory of Christianity, and
+awaited the coming of a mythical Prophet was a subject for healthy
+scorn. And now suddenly it was forced upon his understanding that this
+anaemic sect--this mystical, anticipated Prophet--were his rivals--the
+despoilers of his private intimate hopes.
+
+"Such a knowledge has power to work a miracle; and in one single night
+it changed this boy into a man. Embittered, hopeless, stranded,
+inspiration came to him. He conceived the tremendous idea of entering
+upon a new fight--a second quest of the great inheritance. He conceived
+the idea; and standing, as it were, upon a different plane of life, he
+saw--"
+
+But the Prophet got no further. With a gesture of violent excitement,
+Bale-Corphew rose; at the same instant the Precursor sprang to his feet
+and stood in a defensive attitude before the Throne.
+
+The whole scene was enacted in a second. Enid, grasping its full
+meaning, turned very white and dropped back into her seat, while the
+whole congregation strained forward in unanimous amazement and
+curiosity.
+
+And then, for the first time, the hot, angry glance of Bale-Corphew met
+that of the Prophet. He glared at him for one moment in speechless rage,
+then he turned to the people.
+
+"Mystics!" he cried, in a choked voice. "In accordance with a solemn
+duty, I--I proclaim this man to be--"
+
+But before he could proceed the Precursor interrupted.
+
+"People! Mystics!" he cried, raising his penetrating voice. "Is this
+right? Is this permissible?"
+
+A murmur rose from the chapel.
+
+Bale-Corphew's face became purple.
+
+"People! hear me!" he exclaimed. "This man is no Prophet. He is an
+impostor! A fraud! I have proof. I can give you proof!"
+
+Of the extraordinary effect of these words Enid--crouching helplessly in
+her seat--saw nothing. All her senses were riveted upon one object--the
+tall, calm figure upon the steps of the Throne. By the power of
+intuition, rather than by physical observation, she saw the look of
+intense surprise, of incredulity merging to dismay, that crossed the
+Prophet's face at the Arch-Mystic's words. And at the sight the real
+meaning of his incomprehensible discourse passed over her mind in a wave
+of incredulous admiration. Believing himself secure in his position, he
+had voluntarily chosen to denounce himself.
+
+That was her first thought as the matter became clear to her; but a
+chilling second thought followed sharp upon it. What would be the
+Prophet's reading of Bale-Corphew's knowledge? Would not one
+solution--and one only--present itself to his mind? The idea that she
+had betrayed his confidence. With the horror of the suggestion an
+ungovernable impulse filled her--an impulse to rise--to go to him--sweep
+the doubt from his mind. But an instant later the merely egotistical
+thought was obliterated by the greater issues that filled the moment.
+
+After Bale-Corphew had spoken an uproar--a clamor--had suddenly filled
+the chapel; and now the rapt concourse of people had become as a
+turbulent sea. The Precursor, pale with intense nervous excitement,
+stood vainly striving to make his voice heard; while Bale-Corphew,
+closely surrounded by his fellow-Mystics, gesticulated violently.
+
+At last the Prophet raised his hand; and by habit and training, the
+people subsided into silence.
+
+Instantly Bale-Corphew's voice rang out.
+
+"Listen!" he cried; "listen!"
+
+But again the Precursor interrupted.
+
+"People," he demanded, "will you refuse the Prophet the right of speech?
+Will you refuse to hear the Prophet's words?"
+
+"This is sacrilege! Sacrilege!" Norov suddenly raised his voice. "Listen
+to your Councillor!"
+
+"Listen to the Prophet! The Voice of the Prophet calls upon you. Will
+you deny it?" The Precursor's voice shook with excitement.
+
+"This is the truth! I tell you the truth!" Bale-Corphew appealed to the
+people with out-stretched arms.
+
+But the tumult broke forth again.
+
+"Mystics! Mystics!" Old Arian's shrill, alarmed tones rose for an
+instant, only to be drowned in the clamor.
+
+Then out of the confused babel of sound one cry became distinguishable.
+
+"The Prophet! The Prophet! Let the Prophet speak!"
+
+For a space confusion reigned; then, answering to the demand, the
+Prophet again lifted his right hand.
+
+As though it exercised some potent spell, his calm, imperious gesture
+subdued the turmoil. When silence had been restored he began to speak;
+and never, since he had addressed the first Gathering, had so deep a
+note of domination and decision been audible in his voice.
+
+"Mystics!" he cried, "there is no time for preamble or delay. As the
+Arch-Mystic says, you must have truth! Perhaps there is no need to tell
+you that the history I have just related to you has an imminent bearing
+upon your lives and mine. You probably know, without my telling, that
+the boy of my story and I are one and the same person; that the fanatic
+sect, for which I was made a beggar, is your own sect--the sect of the
+Mystics. But so it is. On a wild, dark night ten years ago I learned
+that the money which should have been mine--the money which should have
+been the recompense for my mother's hard life--had been given to you.
+Given for the use of a Prophet in whose coming you believed!
+
+"My feelings on that night were the criminal feelings that underlie all
+civilization. I had only one desire--to destroy--to be avenged. My
+uncle, Andrew Henderson, was an Arch-Mystic of your sect; and on the
+night he died, your sacred Scitsym was in his house!"
+
+The congregation thrilled, and the blind Arch-Councillor turned and
+clutched Bale-Corphew's arm.
+
+"My first impulse was to destroy that book. Look at it, look at it!" He
+pointed to the lectern. "Ten years ago, I knelt before a fire with its
+pages in my hand, and black thoughts of revenge in my heart. But the
+devil of temptation lurks in strange places. In the very act of
+destruction, an inspiration came to me. A man was expected! A Prophet
+was expected! And in the pages of the Scitsym were contained the
+attributes, the secret signs, the manifold ways in which he was to make
+good his claim.
+
+"I come of an obstinate stock--of a stock that in the past has overcome
+many obstacles. That night I copied out the whole of your Scitsym, and
+afterwards, as soon as I reasonably could, I left Scotland.
+
+"I went at once to my mother; I told her that, according to the
+disposition of my uncle's will, I was to inherit his fortune in ten
+years' time, and that in the interval I was to fit myself for wealth by
+profound study. It was the first time in all my life that I had lied to
+her!
+
+"But to come to the end, your Prophet was to be a student of Eastern
+lore. With this knowledge in my mind, I started with my mother for the
+East. What has happened since then is immaterial. My second probation
+has been as hard as my first. But I accomplished two things. I fitted
+myself mentally and physically for the part I was going to play, and I
+made one stanch, wholly disinterested friend!" With a gesture of grave
+affection, he indicated the Precursor.
+
+In the opportunity that the slight pause gave, Bale-Corphew sprang
+forward and, resting his hands upon the Sanctuary railing, faced the
+congregation.
+
+"People!" he cried, hoarsely, "be not deceived! This man pretends to
+tell you what he is. He is blinding you--weaving a bandage of specious
+words across your eyes. But I will undeceive you. I will tear the
+bandage--" He hesitated, stammered, paused.
+
+With a movement full of fire, full of authority, the Prophet stepped
+from the Throne.
+
+"Silence!" he cried. "There is no need for interference. This matter is
+between the People and myself." With a pale face and burning eyes he
+stepped forward, and standing beside the Arch-Mystic confronted the
+congregation.
+
+"I will tell you everything that this man would tell you," he said, in a
+steady voice. "I believe I will even use the word he himself would
+choose. I am a thief! I am a thief--in intention if not in act!"
+
+The effect of the word was tremendous. A perfectly audible gasp went up
+from the breathless crowd; and, by one accord, the people rose and
+swayed upward towards the Sanctuary.
+
+Calm and immovable as a rock, the Prophet held his place.
+
+"Yes," he said, steadily, "until this morning I have virtually been a
+thief. Until this morning it was my firm intention to take by force that
+which should have come to me as my right. The fact that my intention
+faltered at the last moment does not affect the case. I wish to make no
+appeal. My desire"--his voice suddenly quickened--"my desire is plainly
+and simply to state my case.
+
+"Morally I have done you no wrong. My teaching has been the expounding
+of simple truths, that my personal action could not desecrate. I stand
+before you to-night empty-handed as I came. The one thing I claim from
+you is judgment!
+
+"Judge me! I am in your hands. If you think I deserve punishment, punish
+me! If you think circumstances have made me what I am, then stand aside!
+Let me pass out of your lives!"
+
+There was a great silence; then a woman's sharp cry rang out across the
+chapel, as, with a savage movement, three of the Arch-Mystics sprang
+upon the Prophet.
+
+"Sacrilege! Sacrilege!" Bale-Corphew's voice rose loud and violent.
+
+But he had calculated without his host. The fanaticism of a crowd is a
+dangerous weapon with which to tamper, and the dethronement of a king is
+not accomplished in a day. With the speed of light, the element he had
+unloosed turned upon himself.
+
+Again one word disentangled itself from the medley of sounds.
+
+"The Prophet! The Prophet!" Like an ignited fuse, instinct had
+been lighted in the people. The man who for months had been
+exalted--honored--well-nigh worshipped--was in imminent peril!
+That one thought submerged and demolished every other.
+
+There was a forward movement--a roar--a crash--and the high, gilt
+railings of the Sanctuary went down as before a storm.
+
+To Enid, who had been borne irresistibly upward on the human tide, there
+was one overpowering moment of fear and clamor, in which the cry of "The
+Prophet! The Prophet!" dominated her consciousness; then, to her, the
+world became suddenly and mercifully sightless, soundless, and void.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When at last her eyes opened--when at last her senses falteringly
+returned to the consciousness of present things--she was in her own
+familiar room. The atmosphere breathed of repose and peace; through the
+drawn curtains the hum of London came subdued and soothing; in the room
+itself the lights were modulated and the fire glowed soft and mellow,
+while a faint, pungent smell of restoratives filled the air. But these
+details came but vaguely to her appreciation, for the first object upon
+which her glance and her ideas rested was the figure of John Henderson,
+kneeling beside the couch on which she lay.
+
+For a long, silent space she gazed bewildered into the grave face bent
+over her own--striving to fathom whether this was another phase of an
+extraordinarily prolonged and harassing dream, or whether it had any
+bearing upon real life; then, as the pained, bewildered sensation
+deepened in her mind, it was suddenly illumined by a flash of
+recollection; and starting up, she caught Henderson's hand.
+
+But before she could speak he laid his fingers gently over her eyes.
+
+"You are not to think," he said. "To-night is past."
+
+"But Hellier Crescent? What happened after--after--?"
+
+Again he made a soothing movement.
+
+"You must not think of it. They gathered round me. They were generous.
+They heaped coals of fire."
+
+Enid lay silent, conscious with a keen yet poignant pleasure of his hand
+upon her face. Then suddenly a new thought obtruded itself, and drawing
+away his fingers, she looked up into his face.
+
+"And after to-night--?" she said, in a low, unsteady voice.
+
+For a moment he did not answer, and in the soft light it seemed to her
+that a shadow of pain passed over his face.
+
+Again she put out her hand and touched his.
+
+"What are you going to do?" she asked, below her breath.
+
+At last he raised his head and looked fully at her.
+
+"I am going back to the East. The hardest task of my life is awaiting me
+there. It is a very bitter thing to disillusionize the person to whom
+one is a hero."
+
+She looked at him quickly.
+
+"You are speaking of your mother? You are thinking of your mother?"
+
+He bent his head.
+
+For a space neither spoke. Vaguely, and in distant accompaniment to
+their thoughts, each was conscious of the hum of traffic and of the
+softly crackling fire; then at last Enid stirred, and with a gesture
+full of comprehension, her fingers closed round Henderson's.
+
+"Let me tell her the story!" she said, almost inaudibly. "Take me with
+you--and let me tell her! We are both women, and--" Her head drooped
+slightly; and her face flushed. "And we both love you."
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MYSTICS***
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