Still he sat upon the lichen-covered boulder, still the grey curtain of the mist hid all the mountain world.
Yet what was that sound—that deep, ringing voice which sounded in his ears, falling from some distant height, falling through the air like an arrow?
A voice! A voice! And these were the words it chanted—
"Rise up, Joseph, and come to me! Fear not, for God is with you! Come to me, that the things that are appointed may be done!"
The great voice rolled through the mist like a cathedral bell.
Cold and trembling, Joseph rose to his feet. One hand rested against the granite rock to support him as he answered, in a loud cry of terror—
"Who are you? What is this? Are you the man Lluellyn? I cannot come. I know not where to come. I am too weak to move. I am frightened."
Again the organ voice came pealing through the gloom.
"Joseph, Joseph, rise up and come! Come and fear not, for the power of the Holy Ghost broods upon the mountains."
Joseph stood for a moment trembling, and swaying from side to side. Then he was conscious of the most extraordinary sensation of his life.