ent, her intense desire summoned it
back to physical expression; and the effect upon him had steadily
increased as he drew nearer to the centre where she would focus its
revival and return. Those singular impressions of being watched and
accompanied were explained. A priest of this old-world worship performed
a genuine evocation; a Great One of Vision revived the cosmic Powers.

Henriot watched the small figures far below him with a sense of dramatic
splendour that only this association of far-off Memory could account
for. It was their rising now, and the lifting of their arms to form a
slow revolving outline, that marked the abrupt cessation of the larger
river of movement; for the sweeping of the Wadi sank into sudden
stillness, and these two, with motions not unlike some dance of
deliberate solemnity, passed slowly through the moonlight to and fro.
His attention fixed upon them both. All other movement ceased. They
fastened the flow of Time against the Desert's body.

What happened then? How could his mind interpret an experience so long
denied that the power of expression, as of comprehension, has ceased to
exist? How translate this symbolical representation, small detail though
it was, of a transcendent worship entombed for most so utterly beyond
recovery? Its splendour could never lodge in minds that conceive Deity
perched upon a cloud within telephoning distance of fashionable
churches. How should he phrase it even to himself, whose memory drew up
pictures from so dim a past that the language fit to frame them lay
unreachable and lost?

Henriot did not know. Perhaps he never yet has known. Certainly, at the
time, he did not even try to think. His sensations remain his
own--untranslatable; and even that instinctive description the mind
gropes for automatically, floundered, halted, and stopped dead. Yet
there rose within him somewhere, from depths long drowned in slumber, a
reviving power by which he saw, divined and recollected--remembered
seemed too literal a word--these elements of a worship he once had
personally known. He, too, had worshipped thus. His soul had moved amid
similar evocations in some aeonian past, whence now the sand was being
cleared away. Symbols of stupendous meaning flashed and went their way
across the lifting mists. He hardly caught their meaning, so long it was
since, he had known them; yet they were familiar as the faces seen in
dreams, and some hint of their spiritual significance lef