“Earth has not all she needs. We can learn faster here!” he replied to our wondering comments.
“He thinks he has seen another vision, I believe!” whispered Isabella.
“No; he thinks nothing! Father Renaudin is of the mould of that humanity which does see visions if ever they are seen!” said Regan.
Just then we saw the great world rise up—a fiery globe, where dimly emerald and palely blue were lands and seas. The continents turned before our eyes. The light of this giant moon made it still day for us, though our sun had set.
Oh! grand, great world! I cast myself upon the rocks in agony that it was lost, lost! Something was whispering in my ear:
“Duped, duped, duped again, Roy Lee!”
“My son,” and Father Renaudin laid his hand gently upon my shoulder, “do not let sorrow overcome you. It is nothing. Only a human life lost. A sort of death has come. It is a kind death—removal from temptation, from necessity to sin; a respite for glorious work; the chance for a higher place in eternity.”
“A world unfinished; seas simmering over primeval fires. A baby world, devoid of great opportunity. It is as Regan says. God, if God there be, has forgotten us!”
“Not so, not so! Being here, God’s work for us is here. Shall we not do it? Rise up! Shake off your grief, apply your wonderful ability, your great practical knowledge, to the improvement of the sphere!”
His voice was as a song of triumph, a chant of victory!