The man turned back into the heart of his story.

“I knew by the vague sense of pressure that the devocations of the thing were again on the way.  And I began to suffer in the spirit for the Master’s safety.  Interference, both by act and by the will, were denied me.  But there is an anxiety of spirit, Excellency, that the uncertainty of an issue makes intolerable.”

The man paused.

“The pressure continued — and the silence.  It was nearly midnight.  I could not distinguish any act or motion of the Master, and in fear I crept over to the door and looked in through the crevice along the threshold.

“The Master sat by his table; he was straining forward, his hands gripping the arms of his chair.  His eyes and every tense instinct of the man were concentrated on the fireplace.  The red light of the embers was in the room.  I could see him clearly, and the table beyond him with the calculations; but the fireplace seemed strangely out of perspective — it extended above me.

“My gift to the Master, not more than four handbreaths in length, including the base, stood now like an immense bronze on an extended marble slab beside a gigantic fireplace.  This effect of extension put the top of the fireplace and the enlarged andiron, above its pedestal, out of my line of vision.  Everything else in the chamber, holding its normal dimensions, was visible to me.

“The Master’s face was a little lifted.  He was looking at the elevated portions of the andiron which were invisible to me.  He did not move.  The steady light threw half of his face into shadow.  But in the other half every feature stood out sharply as in a delicate etching.  It had that refined sharpness and distinction which intense moments of stress stamp on the human face.  He did not move, and there was no sound.

“I have said, Excellency, that my angle of vision along the crevice of the doorsill was sharply cut midway of this now enlarged fireplace.  From the direction and lift of the Master’s face, he was watching something above this line and directly over the pedestal of the andiron.  I watched, also, flattening my face against the sill, for the thing to appear.

“And it did appear.

“A naked foot became slowly visible, as though some one were descending with extreme care from the elevation of the andiron to the great marble hearth, under this strange enlargement, now some distance below.”

The big Oriental paused, and looked down at me.

“I knew then, Excellency, that the Master was lost!  The creative energies of the Spirit suffer no division of worship; those of the body must be wholly denied.  I had warned the Master.  And in travail, Excellency, I turned over with my face to the floor.

“But there is always hope, hope over the certainties of experience, over the certainties of knowledge.  Perhaps the Master, even now, sustained in the spirit, would put away the devocation . . . .  No, Excellency, I was not misled.  I knew the Master was beyond hope!  But the will to hope moved me, and I turned back to the crevice at the doorsill.”