Out of the warm sunlit air he stepped into the vast, cool, clear-obscure, white glory of the stately shrine,—­with bared head and noiseless, reverent feet, he advanced a little way up the nave, and then stood motionless, every artistic perception in him satisfied, soothed, and entranced anew, as in his student-days, by the tranquil grandeur of the scene.  What majestic silence!  What hallowed peace!  How jewel-like the radiance of the sun pouring through the rich stained glass on those superb carved pillars, that, like petrified stems of forest-trees, bear lightly up the lofty, vaulted roof to that vast height suggestive of a white sky rather than stone!

Moving on slowly further toward the altar, he was suddenly seized by an overpowering impression,—­a memory that rushed upon him with a sort of shock, albeit it was only the memory of a tune!—­a wild melody, haunting and passionate, rang in his eras,—­the melody that Sarasate, the Orpheus of Spain, had evoked from the heart of his speaking violin,—­the sobbing love-lament of the “Zigeunerweisen”—­the weird minor-music that had so forcibly suggested—­What?  This very place!—­these snowy columns,—­this sculptured sanctity—­this flashing light of rose and blue and amber,—­this wondrous hush of consecrated calm!  What next?  Dear God!  Sweet Christ! what next?  The face of Edris?—­Would that heavenly countenance shine suddenly though those rainbow-colored beams that struck slantwise down toward him?—­and should he presently hear her dulcet voice charming the silence into deeper ecstasy?

Overcome by a sensation that was something like fear, he stopped abruptly, and leaning against one of the quaint old oaken benches, strove to control the quick, excited throbbing of his heart,—­then gradually, very gradually he become conscious that he was not alone,—­another besides himself was in the church,—­another, whom it was necessary for him to see!

He could not tell how he first grew to be certain of this,—­but he was soon so completely possessed by the idea, that for a moment he dared not raise his eyes, or move!  Some invincible force held him there spell-bound, yet trembling in every limb,—­and while he thus waited hesitatingly, the great organ woke up in a glory of tuneful utterance,—­wave after wave of richest harmony rolled through the stately aisles and ...  “Kyrie eleison!  Kyrie eleison!” rang forth in loud, full, and golden-toned chorus!

Lifting his head, he stared wonderingly around him; not a living creature was visible in all the spacious width and length of the cathedral!  His lips parted,—­he felt as though he could scarcely breathe,—­strong shudders ran through him, and he was penetrated by a pleasing terror that was almost a physical pang,—­an agonized entrancement, like death or the desire of love!  Presently, mastering himself by a determined effort, he advanced steadily with the absorbed air