hich alone that appeal
might be conveyed. Such was the scheme which this priest began to
discern; and he saw how the explanation of all that bewildered
him lay within it. Yet none the less he resented it; none the less
he failed to recognize in it that Christianity he seemed once to
have known, long ago. Outwardly he conformed and submitted.
Inwardly he was a rebel.

He sat on silent for a few minutes when his friend had left him,
gradually recovering balance. He knew his own peril well enough,
but he was not yet certain enough of his own standpoint--and
perhaps not courageous enough--to risk all by declaring it. He
felt helpless and powerless--like a child in a new school--before
the tremendous forces in whose presence he found himself. For the
present, at least, he knew that he must obey. . . .

(II)

"You will be astonished at Ireland," said Father Jervis a few hours
later, as they sat together in the little lighted cabin on their
way across England. "You know, of course, the general outlines?"

Monsignor roused himself.

"I know it's the Contemplative Monastery of Europe," he said.

"Just so. It's also the mental hospital of Europe. You see it's
very favourably placed. None of the great lines of volors pass
over it now. It's entirely secluded from the world. Of course
there are the secular business centres of the country, as they
always were, in north and south--Dublin and Belfast; they're like
any other town, only rather quieter. But outside these you might
say that the whole island is one monastic enclosure. I've brought
a little book on it I thought you might like to look at."

He handed a little volume out of his bag. (It was printed on the
usual nickel-sheets, invented by Edison fifty years before.)

"And to-night?" asked Monsignor heavily.

"To-night we're staying at Thurles. I made all arrangements
this afternoon."

"And our programme?"

Father Jervis smiled.

"That'll depend on the guest-master," he said, "We put ourselves
entirely under his orders, as I told you. He'll see us to-night
or to-morrow morning; and the rest is in his hands."

"What's the system?" asked Monsignor suddenly and abruptly
looking at him.

"The system?"

"Yes."

Father Jervis considered.

"It's hard to put it into words," he said. "I suppose you might
say that they used atmosphere and personality. They're the
strongest forces we know of--far stronger, of course, than
argument. It's very odd how they used