It had gone, but the room was still—so still! The silence might almost be felt. What a strange calmness! The soul of Saulus was as placid as the mirror-like surface of a pool untouched by a zephyr. He heard a voice, distinct, but so low and sweet that he could not tell whether it were audible or in his soul.
“Saulus! I am the divine image within thee,—thy real self! I am spirit, and possess the deeps of thy Being. I am the quickened but unmanifest Saulus. In thy consciousness thou dost mistake a false and perverted self for me. I am yet entombed! Bid me come forth!”
* * * * * * * * * *
The morning dawned brightly, and found Saulus as he was wont. Oh, how vivid the visions! It seemed as if he had wandered for a whole night in the infernal regions, and anon been transported for a brief morning hour to heaven. How utterly indescribable!
“What meaneth this? Oh, that I might grasp that heavenly condition! But it is gone, utterly gone!”
Time lingers not, and the appointed hour for departure was close at hand. He hastily arose, and made his [pg 227]final preparations for the long journey. His comrades, who were to accompany him, were already waiting, and impatient for the start. Waving Cassia a final adieu, as she looked down from her casement, Saulus and his retinue wound rapidly northward through the narrow streets, and passed out through the Damascus Gate. Before the sun had climbed far above the horizon they had left the Holy City well behind.
CHAPTER XXI
THE GREAT HARVEST
“The word unto the prophet spoken