roan. He felt
as though there were no force in him at that moment wherewith to meet
reproaches, to beat down fanaticism. The pressure on nerve and strength
seemed unbearable.

Newcome, watching him with eagle eye, saw the sudden shrinking and
hesitation. He had often in old days felt the same sense of power over
the man who yet, in what seemed his weakness, had always escaped him in
the end.

'I went to denounce,' he continued, in a strange tense voice, 'and the
Lord refused it to me. He kept me watching for you here. These words are
not mine I speak. I waited patiently in that room till the Lord should
deliver His enemy into my hand. My wrath was hot against the deserter
that could not even desert in silence--hot against his dupes. Then
suddenly words came to me--they have come to me before, they burn up the
very heart and marrow in me--"_Who is he that saith, and it cometh to
pass, and the Lord commandeth it not?_" There they were in my ears,
written on the walls--the air----'

The hand dropped from Robert's arm. A dull look of defeat, of regret,
darkened the gleaming eyes. They were standing in a quiet deserted
street, but through a side opening the lights, the noise, the turbulence
of the open-air market came drifting to them through the rainy
atmosphere which blurred and magnified everything.

'Ay, after days and nights in His most blessed sanctuary,' Newcome
resumed slowly, 'I came by His commission, as I thought, to fight His
battle with a traitor! And at the last moment His strength, which was in
me, went from me. I sat there dumb; His hand was heavy upon me. His will
be done!'

The voice sank; the priest drew his thin shaking hand across his eyes,
as though the awe of a mysterious struggle were still upon him. Then he
turned again to Elsmere, his face softening, radiating.

'Elsmere, take the sign, the message! I thought it was given to me to
declare the Lord's wrath. Instead, He sends you once more by me, even
now--even fresh from this new defiance of His mercy, the tender offer of
His grace! He lies at rest to-night, my brother'--what sweetness in the
low vibrating tones!--'after all the anguish. Let me draw you down on
your knees beside Him. It is you, you, who have helped to drive in the
nails, to embitter the agony! It is you who in His loneliness have been
robbing Him of the souls that should be His! It is you who have been
doing your utmost to make His Cross and Passion of no effect. Oh, let it
b