“You are wonderful, and it is heartening to meet with such mighty faith,” replied Sir Walter.  “You have no fear, no shadow of hesitation or doubt at the bottom of your mind?”

“None.  Only an overmastering desire to obey the message that throbs in my heart.  I will be honest with you, for I recognize that many might doubt whether you were in the right to let me face this ordeal.  But I am driven by an overwhelming mandate.  Did I fear, or feel one tremor of uncertainty, I would not proceed; for any wavering might be fatal and give me helpless into the power of this watchful spirit; but I am as certain of my duty as I am that salvation awaits the just man.

“I believe that I shall liberate this arrested being with cathartic prayer and cleansing petition to our common Maker.  And have I not the spirit of my dead boy on my side?  Could any living man, however well intentioned, watch with me and over me as he will?  Fear nothing; go to your rest, and let all who would assist me do so on their knees before they sleep.”

Even Masters echoed some of this fierce and absolute faith when he returned to the servants’ hall.

“His eyes blaze,” he said.  “He’s about the most steadfast man ever I saw inside a pulpit, or out of it.  You feel if that man went to the window and told the rain to stop and the wind to go down, they would.  No ghost that ever walked could best him anyway.  They asked me to talk and say what I felt, and I did; but words are powerless against such an iron will as he’s got.

“I doubted first, and Sir Walter said he doubted likewise; but he’s dead sure now, and what’s good enough for him is good enough for us.  I’ll bet Caunter, or any man, an even flyer that he’s going to put the creature down and out and come off without a scratch himself.  I offered to sit up with him, so did Sir Walter; but he wouldn’t hear of it.  So all we’ve got to do is to turn in and say our prayers.  That’s simple enough for God-fearing people, and we can’t do no better than to obey orders.”

It was none the less a nervous and highly strung household that presently went to bed, and no woman slept without another woman to keep her company.  Sir Walter found himself worn out in mind and body.  Mary made him take his bromide, and he slept without a dream, despite the din of the great “sou’-wester” and the distant, solemn crash of more than one great tree thrown upon the lap of mother earth at last.

Before he retired, however, something in the nature of a procession had escorted the priest to his ordeal.  Mr. May donned biretta, surplice, and stole, for, as he explained, he was to hold a religious service as sacred and significant as any other rite.

“Lord send him no congregation then,” thought Masters.

But, with Sir Walter and Mary, he followed the ministrant, and left him at the open door of the Grey Room.  The electric light shone steadily; but the storm seemed to beat its fists at the windows, and the leaded panes shook and chattered.  With no bell and candle, but his Bible alone, Septimus May entered the room, having first made the sign of the Cross before him; then he turned and bade good-night to all.