Mrs Pottinger and the Seer were within a few steps of the platform, when the procession suddenly came to a standstill; the members of the committee, rising from their seats, came forward and bowed to the couple, whilst Gwendolen and her friends remained behind with their guest from the other side of the Channel, to whom they were anxious to show the utmost courtesy. The twenty bearers carefully lifted the heavy burden from their shoulders, and deposited on the ground, the Reliquary which rested on ten sphinxes’ heads carved in solid gold. The twenty representatives of a vanished civilisation showed no signs of lassitude after their long pilgrimage, but stood upright, facing the committee with the tranquil expression which heroes bear on their faces when they have accomplished their duty.
The bells began to peal in honour of the new era just dawning on the world, and the men and women gathered in thousands in the hall, gazed in silent admiration at the beauty of the Reliquary enveloped in the burning rays of sunshine. They remembered what that word spelt in precious stones had meant to each of them. They called up in their mind’s eye the pageants of the last few years, with all the morbid excitement and savage rowdiness which accompanied such shows; and they blushed at what they were brought up to regard as happiness, which was in reality merely a fierce love of enjoyment and a wrong notion of national honour. The topsy-turvyism of past London was so revolting and so incongruous with their present mode of life, that to many who were present, Hogarth’s print of Gin Lane came before their eyes, as a symbol of an intoxicated world in which even the houses reeled on the top of each other in a universal culbute.
Suddenly the bells stopped, and Mrs Pottinger and the Seer, having bowed to the committee, turned round and walked back to the Reliquary. There was a slight nervousness about the inventor’s movements, and his hand shook visibly as he held it above the casket. Gradually he lowered it until the precious stones came in contact with the palm of his hand; and when his sinewy fingers grasped the golden latch, which he lifted with a sharp snap, the noise sounded, in the intense silence, like a gun fired in the distance. To Lionel’s memory it brought back the first exodus of Londoners three months ago.
At that moment, as if compelled by some higher power, the assembly broke into a shout of joy, which was echoed by the thousands who were gathered outside the hall; and a few seconds afterwards they gave expression to their pent-up emotion by shouting the word which was inscribed on the Reliquary.
“Happiness! Happiness!” they unceasingly vociferated, whilst the Seer slowly opened the lid encrusted all over with diamonds.
“Happiness! Happiness!”
The bells began to peal once more, and the sun flooded the hall through every aperture. The Seer brought out of the Reliquary a small instrument in the shape of a revolving wheel, which he held at arm’s length above his head. At that instant the shouting was so deafening that the Seer had to exercise all his self-control not to break down under the emotion which mastered him.
The rays of the sun streaming into the hall were so dazzling, that every detail was blurred; the glass dome seemed to lift itself away in the azure, and the walls to crumble down, as the last barrier which had separated man from man was annihilated.
An unfettered world wrapped in a golden vapour stood under the blue sky, shouting for ever and ever, “Happiness! Happiness! Happiness!”