ng effect upon the body. With
the undeniable knowledge that the time for action--the time for
hope--was irrevocably passed, Enid felt deprived of the power to move.
She sat crouching in her seat, every sense alive and strained, but with
limbs that were overpowered and weighted as if by tangible fetters.

Thrilling to this numb and impotent sense of dread, she heard the
devotees enter the chapel, one after another, and pass to their chosen
seats with soft, gliding steps. With a sickening knowledge of
approaching catastrophe, she saw another of the unconventional
black-robed servants emerge from behind the Sanctuary curtain, and
proceed with maddening deliberation to light the sixteen groups of wax
tapers that were set at intervals along the walls. Mechanically her eyes
followed the man's movements; and it seemed that each new taper that
spat, flickered, and shot up into a light was a symbol, a portent of the
scene to come.

As the last candle was lighted, the shuffling of feet and the stir of
garments that, since the entry of the first devotee, had unceasingly
filled the chapel suddenly subsided, and nerved to motion by the lull,
she turned and glanced behind her.

The scene, familiar though it was, impressed her anew. It was a strange
effect in black and white. The black clothes of the congregation seemed
massed together in a sombre blur; their strained, fanatical faces looked
white and set; while the marble walls shone out, sharp and polished, in
the same contrasting hues. Over the whole scene the concentrated light
and accentuated shadow thrown by the great sconces glowing with tapers,
made a variation of tone almost as vivid as that seen on a moonlight
night.

Unconsciously she recognized the curious, the almost barbaric
picturesqueness of light and grouping; but her eyes had barely skimmed
the scene when the meaning of the hush that filled the place was brought
home to her mind.

Glancing towards the curtain that hid the entrance, she saw the figure
of the Prophet move slowly into the chapel and pass up the aisle,
attended by the Precursor and the Six Arch-Mystics.

He moved forward with grave, dignified steps, and with a head held even
higher than usual, and reaching the Sanctuary gate, passed through it
without hesitation.

The action was so calm--so natural--so like what she had witnessed night
after night--that Enid sat newly petrified, her senses striving to
associate this strong figure with the man wh