The Mystics ..........................................................................................................................................................1

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 Deathgrim, implacable Deathhas 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

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 oillamps shed a yellow 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 his end, nor the young man who watched that end approaching, gave

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

He had lain thus since the doctor from the neighbouring 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 smouldered in the eyes that gazed into the glowing coals. He was barely

twentythree years old, but the selfcontrol 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

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

He reiterated this injunction mentally, as he stood contemplating the man who for seven interminable years

had ruled, repressed, and worked him as he might have worked a wellconstructed 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

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 Scotch landowner, had quarrelled with his father and, at the age of twenty, left his

home, disinherited in favour of his younger brother. Possessed of a peculiar temperamentpassionate,

headstrong, dogged in his resolveshe 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 followed the sea, for years he toiled on land; but in

every undertaking failure stalked him. Finally, at the age of fiftyfive, 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 artista man as needy, as entirely unfortunate as he himself.

But love at fiftyfive is sometimes as blind as love at twenty. 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

haphazard life of his wife and father inlaw, then Nature saw fit to alter the small ménage. The artist died,

With the coming of the child, Henderson conceived a new impetus, and also a new sense of bitterness and

selfreproach. 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 tiesresponsibilities something

There is pathos in the picture of a man setting forth at fiftysix 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 stood staunch in all his trials,

In this atmosphere it was, that John learned to look on life. A naturally highspirited and courageous child,

he gradually fell under that spell of premature understanding that is the portion of a mind forced too soon to

realise 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 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

Many were the nights whenhis lessons for the next day finished, and his father away at one of the many

precarious tasks that kept the household togetherhe 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 rumour told so many and such eccentric stories; and, roused by the recital, his

"'Twill all come back, mother!" he would cry; "'twill all come back! I'll get it back!"

And with a sobbing laugh, his mother would drop her sewing and draw him to her heart in a sudden yearning

In such surroundings and in such an atmosphere he passed sixteen years; then the first upheaval of his life

His first recollectionwhen the terrible necessities of the event were past, and his own grief and

consternation had partially subsidedwas 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

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 decisionsomething 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; until, one

Andrew Henderson wrote unemotionally. He expressed formal regret for his brother's death, but evinced no

interest in his sisterinlaw's position. He briefly described himself as living an isolated life in a small house

on the seacoast, 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

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 kindlyas mothers talk out of the unselfish fulness of their heartsand with every word the

golden castles of her imagination rose tower on tower to form the citadel in which her son was to reign

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; and a week later the whole light of her life went out, as she watched the train

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

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 minda 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 lightblue 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

For many weeks he sought without success for some key to the attitude of this newfound relative. Then one

eveningwhen solution seemed least nearthe 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

foottrack 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

For some hundreds of yards it led upwards in a sharp incline; and with its added steepness, the ardour of the

explorer warmed. With impetuous haste he climbed the last dozen yards; and, as the anticipated summit was

reached, halted in abrupt, dismayed surprise. 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

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,

and 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 endeavour he was

compelled to return home no wiser than when he had first stood on the summit of the path and looked down

All that evening, however, the thought of his discovery remained with him. At the eighto'clock supper of

porridge, vegetables, and fruit which he shared with his uncle, he chafed under the silence of his companion

and the atmosphere of calm indifference that the whitewashed room, with its raftered ceiling, seemed to

convey; and it was with a sigh of satisfaction that he rose from the table and bade his uncle a formal

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

He wrote for nearly an hour, omitting no detail of the evening's discovery, and, as he closed and sealed the

letter, a clock on the mantelpiece 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 bookshelves to the ugly iron safe that stood in the most prominent position in the room; and from

this safe his glance turned to the revolving stand placed by his uncle's favourite chair, in which were ranged

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 haphazard 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 look

of comprehension sprang into his eyes. The oddlybuilt 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,

The warmth of the August day was still heavy on the air as he stepped into the open; a large coppercoloured

moon hung low over the sea, and a soft filmy haze lay on both land and water. Without hesitation he turned

into the cliff path, and followed it until his expectant eyes caught the indistinct foottrack that he had

discovered earlier in the evening. With the same decision, the same suggestion of anticipation, he stepped

The impetus of his curiosity carrying him forward, he mounted the path in hot haste; but, as he gained the

summit, he halted again in new surprise. In the hazy mellow moonlight the small building stood out smooth

and dark as on his previous visit, but from the round stainedglass window a flood of light crimson,

IN the first moment of astonishment John stood motionless, his gaze riveted on the glow of colour 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 unclelong since supposed to be sleeping tranquilly in his own roomshowed tall and angular in the

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,

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. Labouring 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

Never was walk so strangenever were companions so ill matched as the two who threaded their way back

over the headland. Andrew Henderson walked first, talking without cessation 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: and behind him came John, half fascinated and wholly bewildered by the medley of words that

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

And Johnstill confused and silentretired to bed, to lie awake for many hours partly thrilled and partly

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 learnedpartly from his own observation, partly from the old

man's occasional fanatic outburststhat 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 thatto themselves, if not to the worldthese 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 ArchMystics, 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 Prophethuman and yet divinely inspiredby 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 ArchCouncillor,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 realised 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 yearswith the growth of his mind and body. It was not that he was hardnatured. The

regularity with which he despatched his yearly money to his motherreserving the merest fraction for

himselfprecluded 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.

Having stayed almost motionless for several minutes, he glanced at the clock; then moved to the bed, taking a

This time the vacant expression faded slowly from the large pale eyes, and Andrew Henderson moved his

Seeing the indication of consciousness, John carefully measured out a dose of medicine, and stooping over

Andrew Henderson submitted without objection; but as his head was raised and the medicine held to his lips,

he seemed suddenly to realise 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

John remained quite composed. With a steady hand he balanced the spoon of medicine that he still held.

But the old man's calm had been disturbed. With unexpected strength he raised one thin hand and pushed the

"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 ArchCouncillor 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 Bookand also 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

With a calm gesture John forced him back upon the pillows, and quietly wiped up the medicine.

"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.

"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

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 unlookedfor 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

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 bodynor

anything on my bodytill the ArchCouncillor 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 a new pang of selfreproach and

gratitude towards this halfcrazy man so near his end, he went forward and touched the small octagonal

"I swearby 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 analysed.

For a long time John remained motionless and speechless, unable to realise that the huddled figure still warm

in his arms was in reality the vessel of clay from which a spirit had escaped; then suddenly realisation of the

position came to him; with a sharp movement he stood upright and seizing the bell rope, pulled it

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

With something of the same feeling John drew the coverlet over the dead body, and turned to watch the old

woman at her work. But as he looked at her a great 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

He held himself rigidly in check until the last chair had been arranged and the last cinder swept from the

hearth; then, as the woman slowly crossed the room and stepped out into the corridor, he sprang forward with

He had no superstitious consciousness of the dead body so close at hand. The dead bodyand with it, the

dead years and the long probationbelonged to the past; he, with his youth, his strength, his hope was bound

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

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 waitingthe strange deathscene just enacted even Andrew Henderson and

his mystical creedwere blotted from his mind by a wonderful rosecoloured mist of hope, from which one

face looked outthe 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

"MY DEAR NEPHEW," he read,"In acknowledgment of your services during the past seven yearsand

also because I have no wish to pass into the Unseen with the stain of vindictiveness on my SoulI 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 realised upon your

grandfather's death, is already placed in the Treasury of the sect to which I belong where it will remain

"I make you cognisant 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 agotogether with a

doctor's certificate as to my mental soundness at the timeare in the hands of the Council. Any attempt to

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 to

his face in a dark wave; the rosecoloured 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 favourite 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

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

In the yellow lamplight the thin face of the dead man had an ashen hue; the halfopened eyes and the

prominent teeth, from which the lips had partly receded, confronted him gruesomely. 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; then, turning to the

dressingtable, 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

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 inheritanceat the crazy scheme by which he had been defrauded

With hasty steps he mounted the stairs and reentered 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

As he crouched over the fire a fresh gale swept inland from the sea, seizing the house in its fierce embrace,

and the flames 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 hand. Then

involuntarily he paused, as the bold characters of the printed words shot up black and clear in the fierce

"Out of obscurity will He come. Andhaving proved Himself no man will question Him. For the Past lies

in the Great Unknown. By the Scitsymfrom which none but the Chosen may readwill ye know Him;

and, knowing Him, ye will bow down Mystics, ArchMystics, and ArchCouncillor alike. And the World

"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 firethe book held

"He will be Power made absolute!" he repeated mechanically, as he rose slowly to his feet.

ON a certain night in midJanuary, 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.

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 neighbouring basements; the

groundfloor 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 monasticlooking grating set in the hall door.

And yet towards this unlighted and unfriendly dwelling a thin stream of peopleall on foot and all evidently

agitatedmade their way continuously on that January night between the hours of ten and eleven. The

behaviour 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

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 colouring, delicately oval in shape, and illumined by a pair of large and unusually brilliant eyes; the

Having dismissed her cab, the newcomer crossed St George's Terrace with an appearance of haste, and

The last member of the strange procession had disappeared into the house as she reached the door; but, acting

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

"He shall be Power made absolute!" she responded in a low and slightly tremulous voice; and a moment later

The scene inside the house was curious in the extreme. If there was quiet and darkness outside, a brilliant

light and a tense contagious excitement reigned within. The large hall, lighted by powerful 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,

On ordinary occasions there was a solemnity, a coldness in this sombre vestibule; but tonight a strange

electric activity seemed to have been breathed over its austerity. 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 each other with nervous, unstrung

As the last comer entered, she paused for a moment uncertain and hesitating; but almost as she did so, a

remarkablelooking and massively built man who was standing in the hall disengaged himself from a group

"Mrs Witcherley! At last!" he exclaimed in a full, emotional voice. "I looked for you amongst the Gathering,

"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

"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 midstand 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 on her arm, he led

her forward unresistingly through the groups of men and women, and onward down a long corridor, to where

For a moment they paused outside this door, and the man still labouring under some strange

"Come!" he cried. "And before we leave the Place, may the Hope of the Universe be fulfilled!" Lifting the

The roomor chapelinto 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

Still guiding his companion, the massively built man forced a way between the closely packed figures. But

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 railedin 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

With a quick nervous gesture she deprecated the suggestion. "No! no!" she murmured. "Let me sit behind.

But his fingers tightened impressively upon her arm. "No," he whispered close to her ear. "No; I want you to

After this she demurred no more, but moved obediently into the appointed seat, her companion placing

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

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 thickset, 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

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

There was something intense, something electric in the words. A startled cry broke from the people, already

wrought to nervous tension. Some amongst them rose to their feet; some glanced fearfully behind them;

And thenin what precise manner no one present ever rememberedthe curtain at the doorway of the

chapel swung 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, the many tongues, from which frightened glances and frightened awestruck words escaped as he made

Reaching the railing, he paused and lifted one hand as if in benediction towards the redhaired man who still

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; and the whole concourse of devotees stirred in involuntary excitement as the

redhaired 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 motionless; then the

As he gained his feet, it was obvious that the smaller man was deeply agitated. His lips were trembling with

emotion, and it seemed that he could scarcely command his gestures. After a protracted moment of struggle,

however, he appeared to regain his selfcontrol; for with a slightly tremulous movement he stepped forward,

"Mystics!" he began. "Chosen Ones! Out of the Unseen I have come to prophesy to youI, an obscure

servant and follower of the Mighty. For fifteen days have I spokentelling you that which was at hand. And

now, behold I am justified!" He paused and indicated the tall white figure still standing, with face averted

"What have I told you?" he continued, his voice rising. "Have I not quoted from the sacred Scitsymwhich

until this hour I have never been permitted to look upon? Have I not foretold the coming of this man? The

garments he would wearthe Sign upon his person? And have I not done these things by a Power outside

"You have listened to meyou have marvelledbut 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 youthe

Watchersto 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 that curious and impressive lull the whiterobed

His appearance was arresting and remarkable. He had a tall and powerful figure, a strong and determined

face; his bare head was covered with closecut black hair, his hard firm lips were cleanshaven, and his grey

He stood silent for a moment, surveying the faces clustered before him; then he raised his left hand.

"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 ArchMystics will recognise

Him for whom they have waited. I call upon the ArchMystics 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

There was a rustle of intense curiosity, as all involuntarily leant 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

"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 heavilybuilt 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

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

sevenandtwentywith 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 mysticimpassioned, enthusiastic, detached. One by one

these men advanced, examined the scars, and turning to the people, confirmed the words of their fellow; then

amidst a tremulous hush the last of the six the ArchCouncillor himselfwas led up the aisle.

For an instant the glimmering of some new feeling crossed the Prophet's face as his glance rested on the man

who slowly approached with feeble steps, bent back, and anxious sightless eyes. But, as quickly as it had

With a quivering gesture the ArchCouncillor lifted his hand and nervously passed his fingers over the scars

and, drawing the prophet down, 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

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 redhaired man, who had first claimed him, stepped forward to his

The words roused the Prophet. With a calm gesture he raised his head, his eyes confronting the mass of

"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,

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

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 ArchMysticseach of whom possessed rooms in a remote

portion of the houselingeringly 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 himand from which he had made his second and private justification of his claimsand

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 redhaired companion

Still moving with unruffled deliberation, he completed his tour of the apartment; then a remarkablea

startlingthing took place. He wheeled round, laid his hands heavily on the Precursor's shoulders, and,

At first the redhaired man sat watching him, mute and motionless; then with a suddenness equal to his own,

he released himself, leant forward in his chair and silently uncorked a gold flask that stood upon the table

before him. Lifting it on high, he poured some wine into two glass goblets, and without a word handed one to

"John," he said, "you were magnificent! Let me give you a toast? Power! Power made Absolute!"

In silence they drank the toast; but, as he replaced his glass upon the table, the Prophet shook off his gravity,

"Now!" he exclaimed, a new note sounding in his voice, "how much of this has been native adroitness, and

how much unbelievable good fortune? Out with it all! I'm hungry and thirsty for the truth."

"I am distinctly at one with you upon the second point," he said, lifting the wine from the table and

replenishing his own glass. "Truth concealed in a golden flask appeals to my imagination. 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

"Oh, there entered the native genius of Terence Dominick Devereaux! Under that tremendous escort I

"The tongue is mightierand a good deal more portable than either the pen or the sword," he said.

"Paving your way with words has been an unrecognised work of art. But how about yourself? I have my own

"Oh, I had my misgivings!" 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 feetswept 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

roomthe old dead manmyself; and, covering it all like a mist, 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 grey 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 ArchCouncillor; it all passed before my mind, and then in a flash was gone. I ceased to be John

"Avoid that name!" he said. "Habits grow, and so do suspicions. Your probation has been too long and too

"You are right!" he said shortly. "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

"Out with it all! To begin, who is the master spirit? You know what I mean. The master spirit in the true

"No," he said thoughtfully. "You're right there! Michael Arian is the cipher; BaleCorphew's the meaning.

"Yes; in a sense. In the sense that a personality always is dangerous. Amongst the six ArchMystics there is,

to my thinking, only one man, and he interests me. He interests me, does Horatio BaleCorphew!"

"I think I catch your meaning. Something of the same idea occurred to me when he rose from his seat

tonight. While we spied upon them in the last six months, he always struck me as curiously unEnglish,

with that sleek exterior and those flashing eyes of his; but in the chapel tonight he was almost aggressively

"You've said it!" he cried. "Horatio bristles. His whole queer soul is in this businessevery fibre of it. He

"The heart? Do my faithful Watchers permit themselves hearts? The Scitsym makes no provision for such

"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."

"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 eye."

"Frequents? Obviously! Horatio has literally swept her into the fold. She was here tonight to bend the knee

"Tonight?" he said. "Not the woman who sat beside him? The woman with the big eyes? She and

"Undeniable, nevertheless. I have deduced the story. The lady is a widowno relationsvague aspirations

after the ideal. She has sounded society and found it too shallow; sounded philosophy and found it too deep;

and now upon her horizon of desires and disappointments has loomed the colossal presence of

BaleCorphewenthusiast, mystic, leader of a fascinatingly unorthodox sect. What is the result? The

ladytoo feminine to be truly modern, too modern to be wholly womanlyis viewing life through new

glasses, and by their medium seeing Horatio invested with a halo otherwise invisible."

For a moment the Prophet remained quiet and silent; then he rose slowly from his seat and walked across the

"Devereaux," he said laconically, "only the Prophet is going to wear a halo now."

With a sharp movement the Precursor wheeled round in his chair. "Can even a latterday prophet assume

For a moment the Prophet made no response; then he walked back across the room, and once again laid his

"Devereaux," he said in a new voicea 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 othersthat men like BaleCorphewhave seen fit to make. He has come to be a law unto himself!"

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 chaosas 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

On the last day of the thirty, he sat alone in his roomthe room in which he and the redhaired 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

He stood for a moment in an attitude of profound abasement, then he stepped forward and stood beside the

The Prophet raised his head, and a gleam of interest crossed his eyesan interest that he immediately

"I am willing," he replied unemotionally in the usual formula; then he glanced at his attendant. "After this,

The man bowed, and with awestruck deference moved silently from the room, to reappear almost

For a moment or two after the attendant had retired, closing the heavy door, the newcomer 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 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 interesthis

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; and 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

But the wait was longdisconcertingly long. The aspirant glanced uncertainly about the room, as if

unwilling or unable to break into speech. At last she raised her head and, with an effort, met the Prophet's

The effect on the Prophet 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 gesture that had more of

"Have no fear!" he said gently. "My only desire is to help you. Tell me everything that is in your mind."

"Then tell me why you have not come before. Had you no doubts to be set at rest?" He spoke so quietly that

"You did not quite believe that He, for whom they waited, had really come?" His voice was very low.

"Oh no!" she said hurriedly. "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 truthany real meaning in the sect. But

"The whole thing was different?" He repeated the phrase almost as it escaped her, and with the repetition a

new note was discernible in his voice. 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

The warm colour flooded her face. "Yes," she admitted. "Yes. You seemed the one real personthe one sane

thing in the whole ceremony. I feltI knew that you werestrong." She paused, alarmed at her own

"And why have you never come to me?" he asked. He had no particular meaning in the question; he was only

"Oh, I don't knowI scarcely know." Again she spoke quickly and nervously. "I have come every night to

hear you speakI have loved to hear you speak. Butbut to be alone with you" She paused

expressively. "It is all so strangeso extraordinary. It doesn't seem to belong to the present day"

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 the

"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 endeavour, 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 expression that so dominated his

followers descended upon his face; but as he reached the last words, he looked again at his companion and

again discomfiture possessed him, for 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

"Do not forgetdo 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!"

"But if one cannot follow that teaching?" she asked. "If one longs to rely upon some one else? If one cannot

The Prophet made no answer. He stood with one hand resting on the table, his gaze fixed upon the Book.

"I think I could believe" she murmured. "I think I could believeanything, if I might learn it from

you." She paused pleadingly; then, as he still stood unresponsive, the colour rushed again into her face.

Her tone, her charming unaffected humility, stung him. For the first time in his career as Prophet, the blood

"Do not say that!" he began impulsively; then he checked himself. "I am here to teach my People," he added.

For a moment she studied his face half doubtfully, then her own emotions seemed to conquer the doubt.

He did not immediately reply, and when he did, his voice came unusually irresolute and low.

SO it came about that the serpent of misgiving entered into the Prophet's paradise. With Enid Witcherley's

words, the realisation 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

fooledeven 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,

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 many weeks, and Enid's daily visits to the great room where he gave

audience to the congregation had become one of the recognised events of the twentyfour 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 agemere hysteric 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

commonsense 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 continuetheir long intimate talks would make life something new and wonderful; then But

So things stood on the fiftieth morning after her first coming. The stream of suppliants for his favour was all

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

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.

"Because it is the way of humanity to refuse any common weakness to its leadersspiritual or temporal."

She glanced away; then, seeming to gather up her courage, looked back at him again.

"I mean," she said, "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 conversations with her. Neither could have told the date on which the

change had occurredperhaps 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

"Yes," she said suddenly, "yes, even weaknesses. I often think that it is because you are soso 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, likelike a friend." Her voice

"More than a friend. I can never tell you what you have been to mewhat 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 for ever. 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, butbut I hate to think of it!" Her voice

"Yes, I do hate it. Do you despise me for being so selfishso jealous of those other people who will take our

For a moment he made no reply; in the dim light of the room the muscles of his face looked set; his hands

In her sudden distress she leant forward in her chair, looking into his face with new solicitude.

As she put the question, she laid one hand upon the table, and though the Prophet's eyes were fixed upon the

Scitsym, he was conscious in every fibre of the appeal of that delicate hand as he was poignantly

For an interminable time the silence remained unbroken; at last, with a little sound of fresh distress, Enid bent

"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 a

friendas a man." As she said the word she paused, frightened by her own temerity, and with a nervous

But as she did so, the Prophet leant forward suddenly and laid his fingers over hers. The pressure of his hand

"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 murmur of alarm escaped her, and she turned

Without the formality of the announcing gong, two men had entered the room, and stood silent spectators of

the little tableau. One was Devereaux the Precursor; the other was Horatio BaleCorphew.

For one embarrassed moment all four looked at each other; then the Precursor hastened to save the situation.

"Your pardon, Master!" he murmured. "We knew not that the immutable Soul was speaking from within you,

calling one amongst us towards the Light!" He glanced quickly over his shoulder to where the massive form

At this peremptory look BaleCorphew seemed to gather himself together. Stepping forward, he made a

"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

But the Prophet remained unmoved. The hard look had returned to his face, the stern rigidity to his figure.

"The time of the Prophet belongs to his People," he said with dignity. "He holds audiences whenever,

BaleCorphew looked at him in silence. Whatever he had come to say appeared to have escaped him; for a

while inaction reigned in the room, then, with a pale face and nervous manner, Enid rose, bowed to the

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

ON a crisp, cold afternoon, one week after her interview with the Prophet, Enid Witcherley sat in the

drawingroom of her London flat. The early portion of the day had been pleasantly warmed and brightened

by the pale spring 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

When the servant appeared in answer to her summons, she gave her order without looking round.

After the door had closed, she sat motionless, her hands stretched out towards the blazing logs, her eyes

absently watching the firelight on her many and beautiful rings; and even when the woman reappeared and,

noiselessly arranging the teatable, moved it to her side, she scarcely altered her position. It was patent to the

most superficial observer that her own thoughts and speculations fully absorbed her mind.

It is uncertain how long she would have retained this contemplative attitude, had not the sharp, protracted

sound of the halldoor bell suddenly assailed her ears, and the opening of the drawingroom door caused her

The servant came towards her with evident hesitancy. "There's a gentleman at the door, ma'am," she said

"But what? I won't see any one. I told you I was not to be disturbed." With a gesture that hinted at nervous

The maid glanced behind her towards the door. "But the gentleman won't go, ma'am"

In her surprise Enid laid down the cup she had been about to raise to her lips. "Won't go?" she said in

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

"What do you mean? I don't understand you. Who is he? What is he like?" Unconsciously and involuntarily

Enid's tone quickened. Something in the woman's wordssomething undefined and yet suggestivewas

"Well, ma'am, he's very talland not like any other gentleman that comes hereand hehe seems used to

As she halted, uncertain how to choose her words, Enid rose. She could not have defined her emotions, but

"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 she was silent, conscious of nothing but her own unsteady pulses; then suddenly she

"Show him in!" she cried. "Show him in at once! Don't keep him standing at the door."

"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

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

He moved straight forward until he was close beside her; and, with one of his decisive, imperious gestures,

"It was a case of Mohammed and the mountain!" he said, in his grave voice. "You wouldn't come to me: I

No sound escaped her. She stood before him mutely, her face paling and flushing, her hands fluttering in his.

She hesitated for a moment longer; then, making a sudden effort, she looked up. "II think I was afraid," she

"Then of what? Of me?" His grave voice suddenly sank, and the pressure of his fingers tightened.

At the movement, he suddenly drew her towards him. "Tell me!" he said. "I want to know. I must know."

Dominated by his voice, she lifted her head, and, for the first time since he had entered the room, her glance

rested fully on his face. The light in the room was uncertain, but as her gaze concentrated itself, a new

looka look of wonder and alarmsprang across her eyes. In the seven days since they had spoken

together, a change had fallen on the Prophet; 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

createdsomething for which she could find no name. With a sharp, instinctive alarm her lips parted.

"What is it?" she said quickly. "Why are you here? The time for you to leave Hellier Crescent has not come?"

Something in the tonein the intentional flippancy of the wordscame to her with a shock. It was as if, by

considered action, he had set about jeopardising his own dignity. A chill of undefined apprehension seemed

"II don't understand," she stammered. "How did you get here? How did you get away?"

"As for getting away," he said slowly, "when a Prophet has a Precursor, he should be able to manage these

things. Five o'clock is a dull hour at Hellier Crescent. The ArchMystics are perusing the Scitsym; the

Precursor is guarding the sacred threshold of the Prophet; the Prophet ispresumably communing with

his Soul. The routine of this evening differs in no way from the routine of any other eveningexcept that the

Precursor is rather more than usually vigilant in his watch." Again the forced flippancy was apparent in his

voice; and to Enid, staring at him with wide, perplexed eyes, there was something inexplicable and alarming

in this new and unfamiliar attitude. With a curious tremor of foreboding, her glance travelled again over his

"Has anything happened?" she asked. "Have the People done wrong? Have youhave you been called

But the Prophet stood cold, almost rigid, still looking at her. At last, by an immense effort, he seemed to

"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 expecteven askany 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

"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 spring twilight showed through the silk curtains.

"I am putting myself in your hands," he said steadily. "I am jeopardising myself utterly by what I am going to

say; but it seems to me the only way by which I can makewell, can patch up some poor amends

"I may be presumptuous, but I believeI thinkthat 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

frauda liean impostor. No more a Prophetno more inspired than youor BaleCorphew!" He

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, the Prophet spoke again.

"You have done this," he said. "You have compelled me to tell you. I came to these people; I duped

themand gloried in duping them. I despised them, understood them, traded on them without a scruple.

Then you came. You cameand 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 strong. The acting of an actor

depends upon his audience. While my audience was composed of fools, I fooled them; but when you

cameyou with your scepticism, your curiosity, your feminine dependencyI lost my cue. I became

conscious of the footlights and the makeup." Again he paused; and again he endeavoured 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 closer to her side.

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

"Oh, how could you?" she exclaimed suddenly in a faint, shaken voice. "Oh, how could you? How could you

For an instant her tone and her manner daunted him; then, recklessly rallying his determination, he raised his

"I did it for what is reckoned the most sordid motive in the world. 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."

"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 youone frail girlhave wrecked the scheme!" In his intensity he paused again, leaning

"I won't say it hasn't been a struggle to make this confession," he exclaimed. "It has. My conscience and I

have been struggling night and day. I have held out to the last. It was only todaythis very daywhen I

woke to face the crisis of my plans, that I knew I was beatenknew the fight was over.

"And do you understand why it has happened? Do you know why I am going away as emptyhanded as I

He put out his hands. But on the instant that his fingers touched her she thrust him away, freeing herself with

"Don't! don't! don't!" she cried. "You call yourself an impostoryou are worse than that. Much worse. You

He stepped back suddenly as though she had struck him, and his hands dropped to his sides.

"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 hopesideals" Her

"Mistaken faithmistaken ideals" He caught her wrists, drawing her hands downwards.

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 upthat helps one to live," she cried. "Oh, you don't know what you have

"Unheard? Do you think that words could alter facts? The only thing I wish for now is that you should go,

and never never let me see you again." With each word her voice rose, and on the last it broke with an

While she had been speaking the Prophet's face had become very pale. He turned to her now with a manner

"Very well!" he said. "I understand! But there is no need for you to trouble. All our arrangements are

madehave been made for months. We attend the Gathering tonight; and afterwards, when Hellier

Crescent is quiet, we goas 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

herewomen are not merciful when they are robbed of their illusions. But I confess I did hope for justice. I

"Hate you?" she cried. "Hate you? We only hate what we respect. I don't hate you. I onlyonly despise you

with all my heart. Oh, I despise you! I want you to go before I despise myself as well!" Her own cruel

disillusioningher own unbearable sense of lossswept over her afresh; her voice rose again, and again

broke hysterically. With a sudden movement of grief and mortification, she turned away from him and threw

For several minutes she cried tempestuously; then through the storm of her angry tears she caught the sound

The faint relic of daylight still showed through the curtains of the window; the firelight still played pleasantly

on the untouched teatable and the pretty furniture; but the room was empty. The Prophet was gone.

WHEN she realised 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, as the step was taken, her anger, her

disappointment, her knowledge of shattered beliefs, dominated her anew, and with a fresh burst of tears she

For more than a quarter of an hour she lay with her face among the pillows; but 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

At sight of the handkerchiefa mere wisp of wet cambric her sense of injury stung her afresh, and once

But fate had decided against further tears; for before her grief had gathered force, the bell of the hall door

sounded once more long and loudly, and before the vibration had subsided the drawingroom door opened.

With a start of confusion she sprang to her feet, and turned to confront Norris, standing near the door with an

"It's Mr BaleCorphew, ma'am," she murmured. "I told him you were not at home this afternoon, but he said

With an involuntary feminine instinct 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 outill anything you can think of" But her voice suddenly faltered, and her words ended in

a little gasp, as she glanced from Norris to the door, which had abruptly reopened, displaying the face and

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.

At the moment of his entry and during his hurried greeting Enid had mastered her agitation. She looked at

In his excitement, he ignored the coldness of the permission, and instantly the servant had withdrawn he

He made the announcement fiercely and theatrically; but, to any listener, it would have been evident that

below the instinctive desire for dramatic effect, his voice trembled with genuine agitationhis 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 watched him her own coldness, her own humiliation, suddenly forsook her.

For one moment his answer was delayedheld back by the torrent of words that rushed to his lips; then, at

"Outrage! Outrage and sacrilege!" he cried. "We have been dupeddeceivedtricked. We, the

"Yes, dupeddeceived. This man that we have called Prophet this man that we have bent the knee tohe

He spoke loudlyeven 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.

"You must hear!" he cried. "It is ordained. You have been the unwitting instrument by which the man has

"I? I? The unwitting instrument?" She stared at him with wide eyes and a white face.

"Yes, you!" He stepped closer 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, his

expression changing as varying emotions possessed his mind. "And did you see nothing strange in that

audience?" he demanded suddenly. "Did you see nothing strange in the fact that hea Prophet of Sublime

Mysteriesshould hold your hand, as any man of the earth might hold it?" He bent still closer, jealousy and

Enid glanced at him fearfully. "No!" she said sharply. "II saw nothing strange. He was the Prophet."

"Ah!" he said slowly. "I believe you. But, if you were blind, I saw." He paused and passed his handkerchief

over his face, for cold as the day was, drops of perspiration stood upon his forehead.

"Yes, lost." He laughed excitedly, and to Enid the laugh sounded singularly unpleasant, sharp, and cruel.

"From that day we have watched himwe, the Six. We have watched him and his friendthe dog who has

dared to desecrate the name of Precursor. We have watched them night and day; we have seen them, listened

"And what do you know? What have you learned?" There was a strange faint tremor running below her

"We have learned everything; only yesterday we touched the keystone of their scheme. Tonightthis very

nightthey 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 quietwhen the Six are at rest, exhausted by prayer and

meditationthey will accomplish their vile work. They will plunder the Treasury of the Unseen!"

"You are right!" he cried. "What you say is right. There will be no plunder. The Treasury of the Unseen will

As he paused she made no sound, but her eyes rested upon his, as if fascinated by their feverish brightness,

and in their 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

It was a moment before the purport of the whispered words came home to Enid in their full significance, but

as they dawned upon her understanding the pupils of her eyes dilated and her lips paled.

"I mean," he said with slow vindictiveness, "that at the Gathering tonight he will be publicly denounced!"

He made the declaration unflinchingly, and each word fell slowly and with overwhelming weight on 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 ArchMysticsoutraged, incensed, unrelentingand 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

"You would denounce him before the People?" she said incredulously. "You would trap him? One man

"Cowardly?" he cried. "Do you realise what you are saying? The man is an impostora thief!"

"Seen him? No. But the ears are as reliable as the eyes, and we have heard him declare that he intends to

"Intends! Intends! Intentions are not acts." With her deep emotion, her calm suddenly gave way. "Oh, be

merciful!" she cried. "Give him the benefit of mercy. Wait till the Assembly is over, and then accuse him at

the moment of his treachery. If you can do that, he will have proved himself all that you say, and then justice

"Relents!" BaleCorphew gave a contemptuous laugh. "He has not shrunk from liesfrom imposturefrom

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 specialmy

sacredduty to watch and guard." As he spoke, his eyes seemed to devour her face, and before the

"And why have you come here?" she asked faintly. "Why have you come here? What has this to do with

Her tone was unguarded, her face told its own tale; and with the swiftness of a tiger's spring, suspicion and

"Why not?" He laughed again, suddenly and savagely. "Because the man loves you. Because he stole out of

the House today and came here to you. I tracked him here, and tracked him back again."

Enid shrank away from him. "Soyou are a spy?" she said in a confused, uneven voice.

"A spy?" he cried. "You say I am a spy? Very well! We will see who comes off victorthe spy or the thief."

His voice rose, his face was convulsed. The demon of jealousy that had pursued him for seven days was free

"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; today, when I saw him enter this house, I felt persuaded"

With a swift movement she stopped him. Her face was paler than before, but she still held her head high.

"Yes," she said distinctly, "you are quite right. There is more in this matter than his love for me. There is also

Her eyes were bright, her heart was beating fast; with an agitation equal to BaleCorphew's own, she moved

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

For twentythree years Enid Witcherley had played with existencetoying with it, enjoying it, as an epicure

enjoys a rare wine or a choice morsel of food prepared for his appreciation; but now, as she stood alone in her

small drawing room with its costly, feminine accessories, 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 in a flash of comprehensionrecognising instinctively

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 disappointmentin the tremendous knowledge

that the image she had called gold was in reality most brittle clayshe 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 as the unoffending heroine, unjustly humiliated in her own eyes and in the eyes of others; while he

had stood out, in unpardonable guise, the causethe instrumentof that humiliation. In the bitter

knowledge she had confronted him unrelentingly. A spoiled childan unreasoning feminine egoist.

But now that moment, with its instructive and primitive emotions, was passed by what seemed

monthsyearsa century. By a process of mind as swift as it was subtle, the child had grown into a

womanthe egoist had become conscious of another existence. With the entrance of BaleCorphewwith

the sound of her own denunciation upon his lipsa 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

When the door closed upon her second visitor, a long sobbing sigh of excitement, of tumultuous joy and fear,

had shaken her from head to foot; she had involuntarily drawn 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 selfish joy and comprehension could not last; other and more insistent factors were

at work claiming, even demanding attention. With a mind rendered supersensitive by its own emotions, she

realised what the next five hours might hold; and like a tangible menace the dark, angry face of the

While he had been present in the room; while his turbulent voice had besieged 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 recognised 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 dangersomething as fierce

She realised 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 costsin face

With a start of apprehension, she glanced at the clock and saw that the hands marked ten minutes to the hour

of seven. Moving to the fireplace she switched on the lights and rang the bell once more; and as Norris

answered she turned to her, heedless for perhaps the first time in her life of outward appearances.

"Get my long black cloak, Norris," she said. "And a black hat and veil. I am going out."

The woman's face expressed discreet surprise. "You will be back to dinner, ma'am?" she inquired politely.

"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

With the same nervous haste Enid 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 drawingroom, passed through the hall of the

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

"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, as she cowered back into the corner of the cab and

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 paralysed 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

So her mind oscillated until the moment arrived when the cab drew up beside the kerb, and, with a nervous

She answered almost guiltily"Just stop here! Put me down here!" She rose, gathering her long cloak about

Try as she might, she could not control her excitement as she crossed the road, and, entering Hellier Crescent,

sawafter a week's absencethe quiet house that stood for so much in her regard. Her hand was trembling

as she raised the heavy knocker, and her voice shook as she repeated the necessary formula.

There was a slight delaya slight hesitancy on the part of the doorkeeper; then the slide, which had opened

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, fairbearded ArchMystic, known to her 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

While the impression flashed through her mind, Norov surveyed her from his great height.

"Yes," she said quickly. "I know it is for eight o'clock, but I have come early. I have come because I wishI

"I have come," she added with gathered resolution, "because I desire private audience with the

"The Prophet holds private audience only in the morning," he replied in an even voice.

"But the Prophet is generous. Five minutes alone with him will satisfy methree minutestwo

At this final 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 ArchMystic'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 gently. "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 something 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

For a momentfor just one momentit seemed to her desperate gaze that his hard blue eyes softened; the

"It is useless to appeal to me," he said; "but if you very much desire it, you can make your request to my

Whether the man had any glimmering of knowledge as to her private connection with BaleCorphew 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 hera knowledge that her enemy had a

"Thank you!" she said quietly, "but I will not trouble Mr BaleCorphew. If I may, I will wait in the Place

For a moment longer she stood, burning with apprehensive dread. On one hand was the Prophettrapped

and unaware of his peril; on the other was BaleCorphewimplacable, enraged, unrelaxing in his pursuit.

She waited irresolute, until the cold, enquiring gaze of the ArchMystic made action compulsory; then,

scarcely conscious of the movement, she inclined her head in mechanical acknowledgment of his courtesy,

Never in afterlife 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

round the deserted chapelglancing 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

The look and the evident unconcern chilled and daunted her anew. With a movement of despair she paused,

For a space that seemed eternal, she sat huddled in her seat 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 actionaction of some descriptionbecame imperative. She rose from her seat.

Having risen, she stood aimlessly looking about her at the blackandwhite walls, at the rows of chairs, at

the gleaming octagonal symbol that hung from the roof; then, as if magnetically attracted, her glance

There was nothing remarkable in the spare figure, moving reverently from one sacred object to another; but

as her eyes rested on the colourless, ascetic face, her own cheeks flushed with a new hopea new

inspiration. With a quick movement she glanced furtively behind her, and, stepping carefully between the

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

presenceturned 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, appearing to realise that something was

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

"You can do me a great servicea very great service," she said quietly in her soft clear voice.

The Mystic appeared distressed. "Mymy duty" he broke in uneasily. "My duty is only"

"Charity is greater than duty!" she said in a low impressive tone; for by the same feminine intuition that had

made her discard her purse, she saw that by a semimystical appealand by that alonecould she hope to

succeed. Laying her hands upon the Sanctuary railing, she leant forward and raised her large eyes to the

The Mystic looked at her. "Charity," he said at last hesitatingly. "The Prophet teaches us"

"Yes! Yes!" she cried. "The Prophet teaches us that charity is the greater virtue. He tells us that we are to rely

upon ourselvesand also upon each other. We are to help ourselves and to help each other." Her voice

"I am in need of help. In desperate need. And you can help me." Her tone was urgent, her compelling gaze

never faltered. She knew that this was her last chancethat, if this man failed her, catastrophe was

The Mystic stirred uncomfortably, and his glance turned half fearfully from the intent, appealing face to the

"There is something troubling my Soul," she said. "Something that I must confess to the Prophet tonight.

My whole happinessall my peacedepends 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

Until the words were actually spoken, she did not realise 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

"I know, I know. But there is still time. It is a matter of of faithof peace of mind."

"Because the Prophet is exalted tonight. The ArchMystics themselves are guarding the Threshold. The

"The Prophet must not be disturbed. What are we, that we should thrust our wrongdoing or our sorrow upon

At the words a rage of apprehension shook Enid. She lifted her head, and her fingers closed fiercely round the

"Silence!" she said excitedly. "You know nothing of what you say! 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.

"Yes. Take care!" she cried. "Take care! You have the well beingthe whole futureof one Soul in your

"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 notebook 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."

"Take it!" she said impressively. "And remember that it is something important, essentialsacred." On the

A curtain at the back of the Sanctuary had been drawn aside, and for the second time that evening the face of

FOR one instant Enid stood spellbound; then involuntarily she stepped backwards, crumpling the slip of

At the movement BaleCorphew 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

"So this is your action?" he said tremulously. "This is your conception of honour? Truly, woman is the

undoing of man!" With an excited gesture, he lifted his hand and extended it toward the white Scitsym lying

But Enid turned to him. With the sound of his voice her half superstitious fear of him had been eliminated.

"A just man fears no woman!" she exclaimed. "It is because you are unjust that you fearthat you

"And, like an unreasoning animal, you turn to devour the thing that has hurt you?"

"And you can this justice? You call it justice to trap one man and set a hundred others loose upon him?"

But BaleCorphew turned upon her. "What is this man to you?" he cried. "What spell has he cast upon you

But neither heeded the tumult of his tone; the words alone ruled their minds, and as he finished speaking,

"I care nothing for what he is," she said, "I care nothing for what he has done. Once, I believed that I admired

him and looked up to him because he was a Prophet,something higher and better than myself. Now I know

that my belief was false. It was because he is a manbecause, before everything else in the world, he is a

BaleCorphew made a sound of angry contempt. "So that is it? That is the secret? He is a man? Well, I will

strip him of his manhood! I have had my disillusioning; yours is to come. Here, on this sacred spot where he

He paused triumphantly; and in the pause there rose again to Enid's mind the picture of one tall, whiterobed

figure confronting a sea of facesall incensedall passionately, vindictively unanimous in desire.

"Oh, no!" she said suddenly. "No! No! You cannot. You must not. Be merciful! Let him go. And if there is

anythingany 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 darkrobed 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 moved blindly down the chapel and sank into a vacant seat. While

When great fear seizes upon the mind, it frequently exercises a paralysing effect upon the body. With the

knowledge that the time for actionthe time for hopewas 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

With 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 blackrobed 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 as it 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 by the lull, she turned and glanced

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 recognised the

curious, almost barbaric picturesqueness of light and grouping, though her eyes had barely skimmed the

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

The action was so calmso naturalso like what she had witnessed night after nightthat Enid sat newly

petrified, her senses striving to associate the strong, whiterobed figure with the man who only a few hours

before had humiliated himself in her presence. For one moment her mind refused the connection of ideas; but

the next, a full realisation of the position swept over her, galvanising her mentally and physically, as she

First behind his master, came the Precursor. And to her searching gaze it seemed that his face was set into

unfamiliar and anxious lines; that under his black cap and red hair, his skin looked colourless and drawn. But

after a first glance, her eyes were not for him. With swift apprehension they passed to the six ArchMystics

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 visage of BaleCorphew, 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 facesdiffering so markedly in physical characteristicsthere was a common look of suppressed

As they passed her seat, one among themNorovturned and shot a glance of cold curiosity in her

direction, but otherwise the whole group seemed unaware of her presence; and still inert and apprehensive,

she sat watching every movement in the scene before her as one might watch a drama that would, at a given

Very quietly the Prophet advanced to the Scitsym and, following the customary routine, opened it and began

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 tonight it seemed that he

intended to put forth all his powers, for scarcely had he opened the Book and begun his reading than a stir of

interest passed over the congregation; and even Enid, enmeshed in her own terrors, bent forward

He spoke very slowly, enunciating every word with deep 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, BaleCorphew moved uneasily and shot a glance at Norov; but the Prophet was unconscious

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

ArchMystics 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 ideaand

one idea onlyabsorbed 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, and it seemed to her that all the torture, all the

suspense and apprehension of the universe, were gathered into that halfhour 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 sitting inside the

When the sign that ended the evening's meditation was given, she rose with the rest and sank into her seat,

and in dumb, stricken helplessness such as envelops us in a terrible dream, saw the Prophet rise very slowly

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

BaleCorphew's words rose to her mind. "He will fool usas 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

"My People," he said, very calmly and distinctly, "heretofore I have spoken to you as a teacher. Tonight I

Something in the tonesomething in the wordsstruck a note of surprise and uneasiness. Again

BaleCorphew 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

"My People," he said, "you are an unusual gathering. Some would call you fanaticalsome might even call

you foolish. 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 tonight I am going to speak to you of a man. I am going to

tell you the story of a mana 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 and intense.

"Once, many years ago, there was a boy born here, in this city of London. 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 alleydark, foul, teeming with

life; his first knowledge of existence was the realisation of povertynot 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 surroundingsthis was his environment; and yetso great are the miracles that love can

accomplishevery day of this boy's life was illumined and glorified by one presence. God in his bounty

It was the first time in any discourse that he had mentioned the supreme name; and ignoring the amazement

"To say that a boy's life is made happier by his mother's existence sounds too 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 timeexpanded into something so significant, so vital, that even the poisonous atmosphere of the alley

"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 heroa knighterrant; and in the grimy, common alley,

in the poor bare sittingroom where his mother sewed unendingly, in the dark closet under the slates where at

night sleep companioned him, he built castles such as never stood upon the hills of Spain!

"The germ of ambition fell into his soul like a seed of fire, and like a seed of fire sprang into flame. At

whatever priceat whatever sacrificethere 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 colours of health!

"It was a very youthful ambition, but it sprang from the true, clean source of untainted love, like which there

is nothing else in all the world." The Prophet 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 possible

meaning, drew a sigh of rapt anticipation; Enid, amazed and bewildered, sat immovableher face pale, her

great eyes fixed upon the Throne; only the six ArchMystics stirred uneasily, glancing surreptitiously at each

Presently, as though he had marshalled his ideas for the continuation of his speech, the Prophet raised his

"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, for 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 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 visionthis had been the fabled country from which

his castles rose. Steadily, unfalteringly, one idea had expanded in his mind. By some brave actionby some

"Time passed; and with its passage the wheel of fate revolved. By one of those strange chances for which no

"It came. But 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 mana man bound to him by ties of

As he said these words a curious thing occurred. A wave of colour flushed old Arian's sightless face; an

inarticulate sound escaped him, and he made a tremulous attempt to rise. But the movement was instantly

Neither gesture nor whisper was noted by the Prophet. His own face had paled with some deep emotion; and

lowering his raised hand, he began to speak again with a new, suppressed intensity.

"Then began the vital period of the boy's career. He left his homehe left the mother he lovedhe went

into voluntary exile, animated by one purpose. Remember that! He went into the service of this man animated

by one purposethe determination to win back his rightful fortune! For seven weary years he continued in

his pursuit. For the seven most vital years of his youth he suppressed every instinct that animates a boy!

"He worked more laboriously than any slave, for mental servitude is more galling to the young than the

bitterest physical strain; but he never faltered; and at last he had the pride of knowing that his end was gained.

He had become indispensable to the man he served!" Again he paused, but this time the pause was of

impressive weight. Unconsciously, and without analysing the feeling, every member of the congregation felt

that some announcement was pendingthat 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 BaleCorphew cast a rapid, agitated glance over the tense faces of the

congregation. For one moment it seemed that he was bracing himself for action, but before his intentions

"My People! It is now that I appeal to your humanity! It is now that I ask each one of youmen and

womento stand in this boy's placethis boy, built like yourselves of human desires, human hopes, human

weaknesses. This knowledge of successful endeavour came to him under the grim auspices of death; the

master he had served made acknowledgment of the service as he lay on his deathbed; and the moment that

brought the pall of death to one, brought the flaming brand of life to the other.

"It was the most glorious moment of his existencethat moment in which he stood with unshaken faith,

looking towards the future. But the darker side of life 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 the old man who had leaned

upon him, confided in him, acknowledged him, had failed in one particular,the point of vindicating their

relationship! He was still the outcastthe dependentwhose services were liberally rewarded by the gift of

a few hundred pounds. The fortunethe inheritancethe golden mirage of the past, 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 bodya fantastic, unknown sect to which the old man belonged!"

The announcement fell with strange effect. Enid, inspired by sudden terror, rose to her feet; BaleCorphew

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

But the Prophet reassured him by a gesture. It seemed that he was exalted by some emotion, lifted above his

"Put yourselves in this boy's place!" he cried. "Was there ever a position so difficult, and yet so intensely

human? The thing he had striven forthe thing he needed inordinatelyhad 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

"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 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 sectthat this mystical, anticipated Prophetwere his rivals, the

"Such a knowledge has power to work a miracle; and in one single night it changed this boy into a man.

Embittered hopelessstranded, inspiration came to him. He conceived the tremendous idea of entering

upon a new fighta second quest of the great inheritance. He conceived the idea; and standing upon a

But he got no further. With a gesture of violent excitement, BaleCorphew 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

"Mystics!" he cried in a choking voice. "In accordance with a solemn duty, II proclaim this man to

"People! Mystics!" he cried, raising his penetrating voice. "Is this right? Is this permissible?"

"People! hear me! 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 Enidcrouching helplessly in her seatsaw nothing. All her

senses were riveted upon one objectthe 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 ArchMystic'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

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 BaleCorphew's knowledge? Would not one solutionand

one onlypresent 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 riseto go to himto sweep the doubt from

his mind. But an instant later the merely egotistical thought was obliterated by greater issues.

After BaleCorphew had spoken, an uproar, a clamour, 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 BaleCorphew, closely surrounded by his

At last the Prophet raised his hand, and by habit and training the people subsided into silence.

But again the Precursor interrupted. "People," he demanded, "will you refuse the Prophet the right of speech?

"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

"This is the truth! I tell you the truth!" BaleCorphew appealed to the people with outstretched arms.

"Mystics! Mystics!" Old Arian's shrill, alarmed tones rose for an instant, only to be drowned in the clamour.

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

"Mystics!" he cried. "There is no time for preamble or delay. As the ArchMystic says, you must have truth!

Perhaps there is no need to tell you that the history I have just related 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 sectthe sect of the Mystics. On a

wild dark night ten years ago, I learned that the money which should have been minethe money which

should have been the recompense for my mother's hard lifehad been given to you. Given for the use of a

"My feelings on that night were the criminal feelings that underlie all civilization. I had only one desire,to

destroyto be avenged. My uncle, Andrew Henderson, was an ArchMystic of your sect, and on the night

A thrill of excitement stirred the congregation, and the blind ArchCouncillor turned and clutched

"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

"I will not harass you longer. 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

"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

"To make an endyour Prophet was to be a student of Eastern lore. With this knowledge in my mind, I

started 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 to play, and

I made one staunch, wholly disinterested friend!" With a grave gesture, he indicated the Precursor.

In the opportunity that the slight pause gave, BaleCorphew sprang forward and, resting his hands upon the

"People!" he cried hoarsely. "Be not deceived! This man pretends to tell you what he is. He is blinding

youweaving a bandage of specious words across your eyes. But I will undeceive you. I will tear the

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." He

stepped forward, and standing beside the ArchMystic 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 thiefin intention if not in act!"

The effect of the word was tremendous. An audible gasp went up from the breathless crowd; and by one

"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

"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 tonight emptyhanded as I came. The one thing I claim from

"Judge me! I am in your hands. If you think I deserve punishment, punish me! If you think circumstances

There was a great silence; then a woman's sharp cry rang out across the chapel, as, with a savage movement,

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

"The Prophet! The Prophet!" Like an ignited fuse, instinct had been lighted in the people. The man who for

months had been exaltedhonouredworshippedwas in peril! That one thought submerged and

There was a forward movementa roara crashand the high gilt railings of the Sanctuary went down as

To Enid, who had been borne irresistibly upward on the human tide, there was one overpowering moment of

fear and clamour, in which the cry of "The Prophet! The Prophet!" dominated her consciousness; then the

When at last her eyes openedwhen at last her senses falteringly returned to the consciousness of present

things Enid 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 warm and mellow, while a faint, pungent smell of restoratives filled the air.

Very vaguely these details came to her; with the mental pain that follows upon long unconsciousness, they

forced themselves slowly on her comprehensionstanding out, thread by thread, like a pattern from the

tangled web of her thoughts, until completed recollection came sharp and sudden, with the consciousness that

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, recollection suddenly forced itself

But she struggled to free herself. "No, no," she cried. "Tell me! Tell me what happened afterafter"

Again he made a soothing movement. "Do not speak of it. It is all overall past and done with."

Enid lay silent, conscious with a keen, yet poignant, pleasure of his hand upon her forehead; then suddenly a

new thought obtruded itself, and, freeing herself from his touch, she looked up into his eyes.

For a moment he did not answer; and in the soft light it seemed to her that a shadow of pain passed over his

At the questionat the poignant note of anxiety, he raised his head and looked fully at her.

"I am going back to the East," he said quietly. "The hardest task of my life is awaiting me there. It is a very

For a moment neither spoke. Vaguely, and in distant accompaniment to their thoughts, each was conscious of

the hum of traffic, of the softly crackling fire, of the pleasant, sheltered atmosphere that filled the room; 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 youand let me tell her! We are both

women, and" Her head drooped slightly, and her face flushed. "And we both love you."