gave a great cry.

"'My father, my father! Lo, I have come to thee, as thou didst bid.
These many years have I waited, for my spirit spoke true, bidding me
rest above thee. Now will I pass on whither thou art passed, and as thou
hadst understanding, so it shall befall. Lo, I come to thee, seeking
peace!'

"His voice hesitated, and failed, and he fell forward very gently and
slowly till his head rested on his hands on the edge of the tomb. None
of us dared to move for a few seconds, for Mwezi's voice rang so truly
and convincingly. Great awe fell on us all, for he had spoken as one who
certainly saw. Then I stretched out my hand and touched him, but he had
gone, as he said. And on his face was peace.

"That is all there is to tell in a way. For inside the grave, if grave
it were, there was nothing at all that it was given to our eyes to
see--not a bone, not a shred of a habit, nor book nor beads. If ever a
body or treasures of any sort had been there, the receptacle had been
rifled long before, and entirely forgotten. So there is literally no
more to tell. Of course the affair made great excitement. The chief and
all his people came to see, and came once again the day after when I
lowered Mwezi into the grave and replaced the altar stone. After that
the door and the windows were blocked up at my request, against the
day of the coming of the Faith once more to Mtaka-tifuni. For that, the
space about the sanctuary is to be kept clear of undergrowth, by order
of the chief. For that old Mwezi waits beneath the altar, and maybe he
whom he saw waits also."

The dinner bugle had sounded a few moments before Pere Etienne had
finished, and now we rose to go. We stood a second, and I gazed over
the side at the star-shine on the water, for the night was fine. When
I looked up, Pere Etienne was staring out into the darkness, a far-away
look on his face, but he must have felt my eyes on him, for he turned
quickly and smiled. Possibly he read a question I rather wanted to ask,
but did not dare. Anyway, he smiled, as I say, and shook his head. "I
have lived too long in Africa to have theories, my friend," he said,
"but to me the memory of Mwezi and his chapel is a very precious thing.
We are all of us souls on pilgrimage, and we rarely understand why or
how, or remember that we have a Guide. But I like to think in the end,
the Good God willing, we shall find a hidden sanctuary and that we have
been led to a place prepared."