looked across the sea of fixed and
almost adoring faces turned in his direction. It was as if, by strength
of will, he had determined that no point, no syllable, of this, his last
reading, should be lost upon his hearers. More than once, Bale-Corphew
moved uneasily and shot a glance at Norov; but the Prophet was
unconscious of these surreptitious signs.

For half an hour he read on, slowly, distinctly, impressively; then,
still following the routine of the evening service, he closed the book
and calmly moved across the Sanctuary to the Throne. As he neared it,
the Precursor stepped forward deferentially and conducted him to the
foot of the gilt steps.

Having ascended, he took his seat with calm impassivity and, resting his
hands upon the arms of the great gold chair, looked out once more upon
the massed faces. This, according to custom, was the signal for a
general movement. The congregation swayed forward, prostrating
themselves upon the ground, while the Arch-Mystics gathered their wide,
black robes about them and assumed attitudes of rapt contemplation.

In obedience to usage, Enid also dropped upon her knees and covered her
face with her hands. But though her pose was conventional, there was
little place in her thoughts for either prayer or meditation. One
idea--and one only--absorbed her being. How, and at what moment, must
she gather strength to act? She crouched upon the ground, her hands
pressed tightly over her eyes. It seemed to her that all the torture,
all the suspense and apprehension of the universe, were gathered into
that half-hour of appalling silence. Once she ventured to unlace her
fingers and glance through them fearfully; but at sight of the Prophet,
calm, impassive, unconscious of his threatened danger--at sight of the
six sombre shrouded figures that sat inside the Sanctuary railing, her
blood turned cold and her courage quailed.

When the sign that ended the evening's meditation was given, she rose
with the rest and sank weakly into her seat. Then, in dumb, stricken
helplessness such as envelops us in a terrible dream, she saw the
Prophet rise very slowly and stand on the steps of the Throne, looking
solemnly down upon the people.

During his change of position, she sat vacillating pitiably. The
knowledge that in a single moment he would have begun to speak spurred
her to a fever of alarm, while a terrible nervous incapacity chained her
limbs and paralyzed her tongue.

Bale-Corphew's word