"What sort of a figure? One of the house-boys pretending to be a
spook?"

"No, no house-boy. If I tell you, don't laugh, for even if it was only
a dream--which, of course, it must have been--it was very beautiful and
solemn."

Now that Margaret was talking to someone about it, the incredibility of
the incident seemed much stronger. "It was probably a dream," she said
humbly. "All the same, don't make fun of it."

"I won't laugh," he said. "You know I never laugh at such things. I
believe in visions--if you like to call these visitations visions."

"But the odd thing is that the figure was exactly like the picture of
an Egyptian Pharaoh--that's why it now seems absurd--only his face was
not like the proud, arrogant faces of the Egyptian kings one sees in
pictures--fighting kings. It was more like the face of a suffering
Christ, the saddest face I ever saw, or ever will see again. Oh, those
eyes!" Margaret shivered, and paused.

"Please go on," Michael said. His voice encouraged her.

"I can't remember exactly what he said . . . it's all slipping away.
He spoke of some character of which I never heard; he said beautiful
things--I wish I could recollect the exact words he used."

"Then he spoke to you?" Michael's voice was low, intense.

"Yes, he spoke. He gave me a message for you."

"For me?" Michael said passionately. "For me? How do you know it was
for me?"

Margaret trembled as she spoke. "How do I know it was for you?" She
paused. "I do know--or, at least, I never doubted while the figure was
here. Now it seems foolish--it must all have been a dream."

"No, go on. I want to hear everything."

"He said I was to tell you that you were to carry on his work in the
world, he said that you would understand." She paused. "If it was
you, you will understand, because he said you had read his teachings
and believed in them. Does that convey anything?"

"Yes, yes. Go on--what else?" Michael's voice trembled with
impatience.

"There was one word he used which I have forgotten . . . and it meant
everything. I wish I could remember it! It's a name I never heard
before."

"Think," Michael said, "do try to think--it may come to you." Margaret
noticed that he was trying to hide his excitement; he was more nervous
than she was.

"He spoke of someone as God, and said beautiful things about Him . . .
this God, of everlasting mercy . . . those were his words. . . . Oh, I
remember the nam