in, now--not of just religiously minded devots. He
rules, because He has a right to rule. . . . And the civil power
stands for Him in secular matters, and the Church in spiritual. I
am to be put to death! Well, I protest that I am innocent, but
not that the crime charged against me does not deserve death. I
protest, but I do not resent it. Do you think I fear death? . .
Is that not in His hands too? . . . Christ reigns, and we all
know it. And you must know it too!"

All sensation seemed to have ebbed from the man who
listened. . . . He was conscious of a white ecstatic face with
burning eyes looking at him. He could no longer actively resist
or rebel. It was only by the utmost effort that he could still
keep from yielding altogether. Some great pressure seemed to
enfold and encircle him, threatening his very existence as an
individual. So tremendous was the force with which the words were
spoken, that for an instant it seemed as if he saw in mental
vision that which they described--a Supreme Dominant Figure,
wounded indeed, yet overmastering and compelling in His
strength--no longer the Christ of gentleness and meekness, but a
Christ who had taken His power at last and reigned, a Lamb that
was a Lion, a Servant that was Lord of all; One that pleaded no
longer, but commanded. . . .

And yet he clung still desperately and blindly to his old ideal.
He pushed off from him this dominating Presence; his whole self
and individuality would not yield to Him who demanded the
sacrifice of both. He saw this Christ at last, and by a flash of
intuition perceived that this was the key to this changed world
he found so incomprehensible; and yet he would not have it--he
would not have this Man to rule over him. . . .

He made one last effort; the vision passed and he stood up,
feeling once more sensation come back, understanding that he had
saved himself from an extinction more utter than that of death.

"Well," he said quietly--so quietly that he almost deceived
himself too,--"well, I will remember what you say, Dom Adrian,
and I will do what I can with the Cardinal."

CHAPTER IV

(I)

"I'm afraid it's been a great shock," said Father Jervis
soothingly. "And I'm not surprised, after your illness. . . . Yes
I quite see your point. Of course it must seem very
strange. . . . Now what about coming over to Ireland for a week?
The Cardinal will be delighted, I'm sure."

The blow had fallen this morning--a fortnight af