been
broken, and from the dangling end, which hung close to a metal
wall-bracket, a continuous stream of sparks fizzed and spluttered.

"I am content," he said, quietly.

The priest smiled grimly. "Yet it is a pity that your doubts are not of
a more stubborn growth, for it is many a year since the Shining One has
taken a man to his arms. Of a truth, the ancient faith has failed
miserably among the children of the Doomsmen, and I alone of all his
priests remain to serve our lord."

There was silence, the old man remaining apparently absorbed in his
bitter reverie. Constans had been growing more and more uncomfortable,
and this seemed to be his opportunity to escape. He edged towards the
door. Now the metal knob of the door handle was within reach; he grasped
it, and received a severe electric shock. Unable to master his startled
nerves, he gave utterance to a cry of pain. The priest turned quickly, a
frosty smile upon his lips.

"The sentinels of the Shining One are faithful to their duty," he said,
quietly. He touched a push-button, and Constans was at last able to let
go of that innocent-looking door-knob; he fell to rubbing his arm
vigorously in order to relieve the contracted muscles. What a ridiculous
figure he had made of himself, he thought, vexedly.

"My son."

There was a new note in the old man's voice, an inflection almost
kindly, and Constans wondered.

"Nothing happens of itself," continued the priest, "and it was more than
chance that led you thither. Surely, the Shining One has been mindful of
his own, for I am an old man and my days are numbered. Therefore, has he
sent you, my son, that to you I may commit the secrets of his power and
worship. Then shall I ascend in peace upon the knees of the Silent One,
knowing that his honor is safe in your hands. What say you?"

Constans realized that he was in a difficult position; nay more, that he
was absolutely at the mercy of his new acquaintance. There was no means
of exit save by the one door, and he had no desire for a second trial of
strength with the electric current. The old priest might be ignorant of
the real nature of the forces under his control, but certainly he was
well provided with practical formulas for their exploitation, as witness
the illuminated face and the electrically charged door-knob. Constans
understood that he was in a trap, where even to come into contact with
the walls of his prison-house might mean death. There was but one t