In his excitement he slipped from the edge of the windowsill, where he was perched, and Mr. Skale, standing close in front of him, caught his two wrists and set him upon his feet.  A shock, like a rush of electricity, ran through him.  He took his courage boldly in both hands and asked the question ever burning at the back of his mind.

“Then, this great Experiment you—­we have in view,” he stammered, “is to do with the correct uttering of the names of some of the great Forces, or Angels, and—­and the assimilating of their powers into ourselves—?”

Skale rose up gigantically beside him.  “No, sir,” he cried, “it is greater—­infinitely greater than that.  Names of mere Angels I can call alone without the help of any one; but for the name I wish to utter a whole chord is necessary even to compass the utterance of the opening syllable; as I have told you already, a chord in which you share the incalculable privilege of being the tenor note.  But for the completed syllables—­the full name—!” He closed his eyes and shrugged his massive shoulders—­“I may need the massed orchestras of half the world, the chorused voices of the entire nation—­or in their place a still small voice of utter purity crying in the wilderness!  In time you shall know fully—­know, see and hear.  For the present, hold your soul with what patience and courage you may.”

The words thundered about the room, so that Miriam, too, heard them.  Spinrobin trembled inwardly, as though a cold air passed him.  The suggestion of immense possibilities, vague yet terrible, overwhelmed him again suddenly.  Had not the girl at that moment moved up beside him and put her exquisite pale face over his shoulder, with her hand upon his arm, it is probable he would then and there have informed Mr. Skale that he withdrew from the whole affair.

“Whatever happens,” murmured Miriam, gazing into his eyes, “we go on singing and sounding together, you and I.”  Then, as Spinrobin bent down and kissed her hair, Mr. Skale put an arm round each of them and drew them over to the tea table.

“Come, Mr. Spinrobin,” he said, with his winning smile, “you must not be alarmed, you know.  You must not desert me.  You are necessary to us all, and when my Experiment is complete we shall all be as gods together.  Do not falter.  There is nothing in life, remember, but to lose oneself; and I have found a better way of doing so than any one else—­by merging ourselves into the Voice of—­”

“Mr. Skale’s tea has been standing more than ten minutes,” interrupted the old housekeeper, coming up behind them; “if Mr. Spinrobin will please to let him come—­” as though it was Spinrobin’s fault that there had been delay.

Mr. Skale laughed good-humouredly, as the two men, suddenly in the region of teacups and buttered toast, looked one another in the face with a certain confusion.  Miriam, sipping her tea, laughed too, curiously.  Spinrobin felt restored to some measure of safety and sanity again.  Only the strange emotion of a few moments before still moved there unseen among them.