Oliver bowed his head.

“I can trust Him for all the rest,” went on the girl softly.  “I do not know where He is, nor when He will come back, nor what He will do.  I suppose there is a great deal for Him to do, before He is fully known—­laws, reforms—­that will be your business, my dear.  And the rest of us must wait, and love, and be content.”

Oliver again lifted his face and looked at her.

“Mabel, my dear—–­”

“Oh!  I knew it even last night,” she said, “but I did not know that I knew it till I awoke to-day and remembered.  I dreamed of Him all night....  Oliver, where is He?”

He shook his head.

“Yes, I know where He is, but I am under oath—–­”

She nodded quickly, and stood up.

“Yes.  I should not have asked that.  Well, we are content to wait.”

There was silence for a moment or two.  Oliver broke it.

“My dear, what do you mean when you say that He is not yet known?”

“I mean just that,” she said.  “The rest only know what He has done—­not what He is; but that, too, will come in time.”

“And meanwhile—–­”

“Meanwhile, you must work; the rest will come by and bye.  Oh!  Oliver, be strong and faithful.”

She kissed him quickly, and went out.

* * * * *

Oliver sat on without moving, staring, as his habit was, out at the wide view beyond his windows.  This time yesterday he was leaving Paris, knowing the fact indeed—­for the delegates had arrived an hour before—­but ignorant of the Man.  Now he knew the Man as well—­at least he had seen Him, heard Him, and stood enchanted under the glow of His personality.  He could explain it to himself no more than could any one else—­unless, perhaps, it were Mabel.  The others had been as he had been:  awed and overcome, yet at the same time kindled in the very depths of their souls.  They had come out—­Snowford, Cartwright, Pemberton, and the rest—­on to the steps of Paul’s House, following that strange figure.  They had intended to say something, but they were dumb as they saw the sea of white faces, heard the groan and the silence, and experienced that compelling wave of magnetism that surged up like something physical, as the volor rose and started on that indescribable progress.

Once more he had seen Him, as he and Mabel stood together on the deck of the electric boat that carried them south.  The white ship had passed along overhead, smooth and steady, above the heads of that vast multitude, bearing Him who, if any had the right to that title, was indeed the Saviour of the world.  Then they had come home, and found the priest.