g, then the New Faith will take care of itself--"

"Yes, yes, I know," was the testy interruption; "but the world is not so
easily led in matters of religion. The message, as you say, is divine;
but it may sound like meaningless twaddle to the world at large. If we
are to heal mankind and dispel the heresy of disease and death, why
can't Holiest Mother save herself? Mind you, I am looking at this thing
with the eyes of the sceptics--"

"You are an unbeliever, a materialist, yourself," was the bold retort.
"Do as you please, but you can't drag me into your money calculations."
The swift slam of the door left them to their fears.

Her aunt, sitting as upright as a candle, was conducting an invisible
orchestra when Aline returned. The frightened maid tried to hold the
lean, spasmodic arms as they traced in the air the pompous rhythm of a
march that moved on silent funereal pinions through the chamber. The
woman stared threateningly at the picture on the wall, the picture of
the skeleton which had come from nothingness to reveal nothingness to
the living. The now distraught girl, her nerves crisped by her doubts,
threw herself upon the bed, her fears sorely knocking at her heart.

"Aunt, Aunt Mary--Holiest Mother, in Christ's name, in the name of the
New Faith, tell me before you go--tell me what is to become of our holy
church after you die--after you pass over to the great white light. Is
it all real? Or is it only a dream, _your_ beautiful dream?--What is the
secret truth? Or--or--is there no secret--no--" her voice was cracked by
sobs. The stately, soundless music was waved on by her aunt. Then
Holiest Mother fell back on her pillow, and with a last long glance at
the picture, she pointed, with smiling irony at the picture.

_Nada, Nada ..._

The night died away in tender complicity with the two little lamps on
the dressing table, and the sweet, thick perfume of magnolias modulated
into acrid decay as day dawned. Below, the two men anxiously awaited the
message from the dead. And they saw again upon the marble tablet above
the fireplace her cryptic wisdom:--

"My first and forever message is one and eternal."

XX

PAN

For the Great God Pan is alive again.

--DEAN MANSEL.

I

The handsome Hungarian kept his brilliant glance fixed upon Lora Crowne;
she sat with her Aunt Lucas and Mr. Steyle at a table facing the
orchestra. His eyes were not so large as black; the intensity of their
gaze f