But, in a niche above the altar, stood a wondrous figure of the Christ; not dying, not dead; not glorified and ascending; but the Christ as very man, walking the earth in human form, yet calmly, unmistakably, triumphantly Divine.  The marble form was carved by the same hand as the Madonna which the Bishop had brought from Rome, and placed in Mora’s cell at the Convent.  It had been his gift to his old friend the Hermit.  At first sight of it, Mora remembered hearing it described by the Bishop himself.  Then the beauty of the sculpture took hold upon her, and she forgot all else.

It lived!  The face wore a look of searching tenderness; on the lips, a smile of loving comprehension; in the out-stretched hands, an attitude of infinite compassion.

Mora fell upon her knees.  Instinctively she recalled the earnest injunction of Father Gervaise to his penitents that, when kneeling before the crucifix, they should repeat:  “He ever liveth to make intercession for us.”  And, strangely enough, there came back with this the remembrance of the wild voice of Mary Seraphine, shrieking, when told to contemplate the dying Redeemer:  “I want life—­not death!”

Here was Life indeed!  Here was the Saviour of the world, in mortal guise, the Word made manifest.

Mora lifted her eyes and read the words, illumined in letters of gold around the arch of the niche, gleaming in the sunlight above the patient head of the Man Divine.

“IN ALL POINTS TEMPTED LIKE AS WE ARE, YET WITHOUT SIN.”

And higher still, above the arch: 

“A GREAT HIGH PRIEST. . . .  PASSED INTO THE HEAVENS.”

In the silence and stillness of that utter solitude, she who had so lately been Prioress of the White Ladies kneeled and worshipped.

The Unseen Presence drew nearer.

She closed her eyes to the sculptured form.

The touch of her Lord was upon her heart.

She had prayed in her cell that His pierced feet nailed to the wood might become as dear to her as the Baby feet on the Virgin Mother’s knees.  In her anguish of cloistered sorrow, that prayer had been granted.

But out in the world of living men and things, she needed more.  She needed Feet that walked and moved, passed in and out of house and home; paused by the hearth; went to the wedding feast; moved to the fresh closed grave; Feet that had sampled the dust of life’s highway; Feet that had trod rough places, yet never tripped nor stumbled.

“Tempted in all points.” . . .  Then here was One Who could understand Hugh’s hard temptation; Who could pity, if Hugh fell.  Here was One Who would comprehend the breaking of her poor human heart if, loving Hugh as she now loved, she yet must leave him.

“A great High Priest.” . . .  What need of any other priest, while “with Him in the Holy Mount”?  Passed into the heavens, yet ever living to make intercession for us.