"The Holy Ghost, proceeding from the Father and the Son, is of one substance, majesty, and glory with the Father and the Son, very and eternal God."
"I would," the young man said, with great sadness—"would that the Holy Ghost would come to me also."
He had hardly finished the sentence—probably the first prayer he had ever made since he lisped "Our Father" at his mother's knee—when the door opened, and the butler entered the room.
"A note, Sir Thomas," the man said. "A note from Miss Lys. The bearer awaits an answer."
The young man took the note with trembling fingers and tore it open. This was what he read:—
"I saw you in the theatre to-night, and I knew that you were disturbed about me. Have no fear. I am writing this from my aunt's house, where I went immediately when we left the theatre. But I want you to come and see me here to-morrow, quite early. Would ten o'clock be too soon? I have something of the highest importance to say to you. Send back an answer to say that you can come. I have been here for an hour, and I have been thinking of you the whole time. I have a premonition about you—a happy one!
"Mary."
CHAPTER IX
A LINK CHAPTER
Joseph, his followers, and Mary Lys, had passed out of the theatre without hindrance in the dark. They encountered no one in their passage, and found themselves in Shaftesbury Avenue as people pass from one dream into another. The faces of all of them were pale and set, but no one spoke.