Some people noticed—but those were only a very few—that the dark figure of a clergyman in a monastic cape and cassock came upon the platform at the same time and sat down in the far background.
Afterwards, everybody said that they had noticed the entrance of Father Joseph Edward and wondered at it. As a matter of fact hardly anybody did.
The Bishop rose and placed his hands upon the little table before him.
He coughed. His voice was not quite as adequate as usual.
This is what he said. "Mr. Gilbert Lothian, whose name all of you must know and whose works I am sure most of you, like myself, have in the most grateful remembrance, desires to address you."
That was all the Bishop said—he made a motion with his hand and Gilbert Lothian rose from his chair and took two steps to the front of the platform.
Those present saw a young man of medium height, neither fat nor slim, and with a very beautiful face. It was pale but the contour was perfect. Certainly it was very pale, but the eyes were bright and the æsthetic look and personality of the poet fitted in very well with what people had known of him in the past.
Only Morton Sims, who was sitting within arm's reach of Lothian—and perhaps half a dozen other people who knew rather more than the rest—were startled at what seemed to be a transformation.
As Lothian began to speak Father Joseph Edward glided from his seat, and leant over the back of Dr. Morton Sims' chair. This was a rather extraordinary proceeding and at any other time it would have been immediately remarked upon.
As it was, the first words which Gilbert Lothian spoke held the audience so immediately that they forgot, or did not see the watchful waiting "Abbot of Mullion."