s too late to
consider now.--How strange that James Maxwell was a priest! That of
course accounted at once for his long absence, no doubt in the seminary
abroad, and his ultimate return, and for Hubert's inheriting the estates.
And then he passed on to reflect as he had done a hundred times before on
this wonderful Religion that allured men from home and wealth and
friends, and sent them rejoicing to penury, suspicion, hatred, peril, and
death itself, for the kingdom of heaven's sake.

Suddenly he found himself in the open space opposite the Cathedral--the
child had again disappeared.

It was less dark here; the leaden sky overhead still glimmered with a
pale sunset light; and many house-windows shone out from within. He
passed round the south side of the Cathedral, and entered the western
door. The building was full of deep gloom only pricked here and there by
an oil-lamp or two that would presently be extinguished when the
Cathedral was closed. The air was full of a faint sound, made up from
echoes of the outside world and the footsteps of a few people who still
lingered in groups here and there in the aisles, and talked among
themselves. The columns rose up in slender bundles and faded into the
pale gloom overhead; as he crossed the nave on the way to Papists' Corner
far away to the east rose the dark carving of the stalls against the
glimmering stone beyond. It was like some vast hall of the dead; the
noise of the footsteps seemed like an insolent intrusion on this temple
of silence; and the religious stillness had an active and sombre
character of its own more eloquent and impressive than all the tumult
that man could make.

As Anthony came to Papists' Corner he saw a very tall solitary figure
passing slowly from east to west; it was too dark to distinguish faces;
so he went towards it, so that at the next turn they would meet face to
face. When he was within two or three steps the man before him turned
abruptly; and Anthony immediately put out his hand smiling.

"Mr. Arthur Oldham," he said.

The man started and peered curiously through the gloom at him.

"Why Anthony!" he exclaimed, and took his hand, "what is your business
here?" And they began slowly to walk westwards together.

"I am come to meet Mr. Oldham," he said, "and to give him a message; and
this is it, 'Come, for all things are now ready!'"

"My dear boy," said James, stopping short, "you must forgive me; but what
in the world do you mean by