ny have not ascended so far._

And now he saw the whole road of man, from the simple consciousness of
animals, through human self-consciousness, to the cosmic consciousness
of prophets--and beyond to Divinity. Always the refinement of matter,
and the attraction of light--spiritual light. He saw the time when a
self-conscious man was the best specimen of the human race. So for
cosmic consciousness, the time would come; and as the centuries passed,
the earlier would it appear in the life of the evolved.

A clear expression of what had taken place within him now appeared--his
own expression to make it clear for men. In the summit of
self-consciousness, his mind was like a campfire in the night--a few
objects in a circle of red firelight and shadow. The crown of cosmic
consciousness now come, was _the dawn of full day upon the plain_.

Full day upon the plain--distances, contours, the great blooms of
space; a swarm of bees, a constellation of suns; the traffic of ants
among the dropped twigs of the sand, the communion of angels beyond the
veils of heaven; the budding of a primrose, the resurrection of a
God--and all for men, when the daybreak and the shadows flee away.

He saw that this was the natal hour of the world's soul-life, and that
it would come through the giving spirit of Woman. He saw great souls
pressing close to every pure, strong, feminine spirit; the first fruits
of the centuries hovering close to great women of the world, praying
for bodies to toil with, eager to turn from their heaven to labor for
men.... And this was the _shekinah_ of Andrew Bedient--the spirit of
his message.

* * * * *

His blood ceased to flow; he heard the flight of angels; he was bathed
in Brahmic splendor--until he could bear no more....

He awoke in the "ambrosia of dawn"; in that strange hush which lies
upon the world before fall the floods of rosy red.... He arose, his
feet stumbling with ecstasy. Light winged over the hills--and afar off,
he saw the roofs of the _hacienda_ sharpen with day....

His face was like morning upon a cloud. The natives vanished before
him; Falk and Leadley shrank back, wondering what manner of drink he
had found in the night.

THIRTY-FIFTH CHAPTER

FATE KNOCKS AT THE DOOR

During the month that followed, Bedient wrote at length to all his
friends in New York. Nightly he roamed the hills and rode his lands
throughout the long forenoons. It was a season of