I have studied the German ritual very
carefully; it is more elaborate than I had thought it. It will need a
good deal of adroitness. I imagine that you will want at least a dozen
_Ceremoniarii_ in the Abbey; and a dozen more in the vestries will
scarcely be too much."

Oliver nodded abruptly, looking curiously at the eager pathetic face of
the man opposite him; yet it had something, too, of that mask-like
priestly look that he had seen before in others like him. This was
evidently a devotee.

"You are all Masons, of course?" he said.

"Why, of course, Mr. Brand."

"Very good. I will speak to Mr. Snowford to-day if I can catch him."

He glanced at the clock. There were yet three or four minutes.

"You have seen the new appointment in Rome, sir," went on Mr. Francis.

Oliver shook his head. He was not particularly interested in Rome just
now.

"Cardinal Martin is dead--he died on Tuesday--and his place is already
filled."

"Indeed, sir?"

"Yes--the new man was once a friend of mine--Franklin, his name
is--Percy Franklin."

"Eh?"

"What is the matter, Mr. Brand? Did you know him?"

Oliver was eyeing him darkly, a little pale.

"Yes; I knew him," he said quietly. "At least, I think so."

"He was at Westminster until a month or two ago."

"Yes, yes," said Oliver, still looking at him. "And you knew him, Mr.
Francis?"

"I knew him--yes."

"Ah!--well, I should like to have a talk some day about him."

He broke off. It yet wanted a minute to his time.

"And that is all?" he asked.

"That is all my actual business, sir," answered the other. "But I hope
you will allow me to say how much we all appreciate what you have done,
Mr. Brand. I do not think it is possible for any, except ourselves, to
understand what the loss of worship means to us. It was very strange at
first---"

His voice trembled a little, and he stopped. Oliver felt interested, and
checked himself in his movement to rise.

"Yes, Mr. Francis?"

The melancholy brown eyes turned on him full.

"It was an illusion, of course, sir--we know that. But I, at any rate,
dare to hope that it was not all wasted--all our aspirations and
penitence and praise. We mistook our God, but none the less it reached
Him--it found its way to the Spirit of the World. It taught us that the
individual was nothing, and that He was all. And now---"

"Yes, sir," said the other softly. He was really touched.

The sad brown eyes opened full.

"And now Mr. Fel