amusements--while our Lord went alone to the Mount of Olives. It was
evening. The path seemed to me steep and weary--and He was bent with
fatigue. At first He was all alone--darkness hung over the hill and the
olive gardens. Then, suddenly, I became aware of forms that followed Him,
at a long distance--saints, virgins, martyrs, confessors. They swept
along in silence. I could just see them as a dim majestic crowd.
Presently, a form detached itself from the crowd--to my amazement, I saw
_you_ distinctly--there seemed to be a special light upon your face. And
the rest appeared to fall back. Soon I only saw the Form toiling in
front, and you following. Then at the brow of the hill the Lord
turned--and you, who were half-way up the last steep, paused also. The
Lord beckoned to you. His Divine face was full of sweetness and
encouragement--and you made a spring towards Him. Then something
happened--something horrible--but I could hardly see what. But a figure
seemed to snatch at you from behind--you stumbled--then you fell
headlong. A black cloud fell from the sky--and covered you. I heard a
wailing cry--I saw the Lord's face darkened--and immediately afterwards
the train of saints swept past me once more, with bent heads, beating
their breasts. I cannot describe the extraordinary vividness of it! The
succession of thoughts and images never paused; and when I woke, or
seemed to wake, I found myself bathed in sweat and nearly fainting."

There was a dead silence.

The scholastic began again, in still more rapid and troubled tones, to
excuse himself. Mr. Helbeck might well think it presumption on his part
to have repeated such a thing. He could only plead a strange pressure on
his conscience--a sense of obligation. The fact was probably
nothing--meant nothing. But if calamity came--if it meant calamity--and
he had not delivered his message--would there not have been a burden on