“It is neither material nor arrogant.  I am humbler than you, and your positive assertion seems much the more arrogant.  This is the twentieth century, and your mediaeval attitude would win no possible sympathy or support from any educated man.”

“Truth can afford to be patient,” answered May.  “But I, too, am quite sane, though your face doubts it.  I do not claim that human prayer can alter physical laws, and I do not ask my Maker to work a miracle on my behalf or suspend the operations of cause and effect.  But I am satisfied that we are in a region outside our experience and on another plane and dimension than those controlled by natural law.  God has permitted us to enter such a region.  He has opened the door into this mystery.  He has spoken to my soul and so directed me that I cannot sit with folded hands.  This is, I repeat, a challenge to me personally.

“There is, as I potently believe, a being in bondage here which only the voice of God, speaking through one of His creatures, can liberate.  If I am wrong, then I shall pray in vain; if right, as I know by deepest conviction and intuition, then my prayer must avail.  In any case, I do my duty, and if I myself was called to die while so doing, what nobler death can I desire?”

Mannering regarded the speaker with growing concern.  But he still assumed sanity on the part of the reverend gentleman, and still felt considerable irritation mix with his solicitude.

“You must consider others a little,” he said.

“No, Dr. Mannering; they must consider me.  Providence sends me a message denied to the rest of you, because I am a fit recipient; you are not.  It is Newman’s ’Illative Sense’—­a conviction arising from well-springs far deeper and purer than those that account for human reason.  I know because I know.  Reasoning, at best, is mere inference deduced from observation, but I am concerned with an inspiration—­a something akin to the gift of prophecy.”

“Then I can only hope that Sir Walter will exercise his rights and responsibilities and deny you what you wish.”

“He has faith, and I am sorry that you lack it.”

“No, Mr. May, you must not say that.  It is entirely reasonable that Mannering should ask you to consider others,” said Sir Walter.  “To you a sudden and peaceful death might be no ill; but it would be a very serious ill to the living—­a loss to your work on earth, which is not done, a shock and grief to those who respect you, and a reflection on all here.”

“Let the living minister to the living and put their trust in God.”

Mannering spoke to the vicar of Chadlands.

“What do you think, Prodgers?  You are a parson, too, yet may be able to see with our eyes.  Surely common sense shouldn’t be left out of our calculations, even if they concern the next world?”

“I respect Mr. May’s faith,” answered the younger priest, “and assuredly I believe that if we eliminate all physical and natural causes from poor Captain May’s death, then no member of our sacred calling should fear to spend the night alone in that room.  Jacob wrestled with the angel of light.  Shall the servants of God fear to oppose a dark angel?”