“And on the memory of the Master,” whispered the vicar in his hushed voice.
“Quite so. I fully agree. The dear fellow! And to think he was able to win a prize of seven thousand pounds, not to mention the many thousands his work is earning all over the world, from which, by the way, deserving charities are benefiting.”
“Did he know that his work was producing these large sums?”
“Oh, yes. And I think the knowledge gave him pleasure. But he never regarded a penny as his own. He left it to Mr. Brandon and myself—two just men I am proud to think he called us—to give back again, as he said, ‘that which had been given to him, in the way likely to do the most good.’”
“He was quite selfless,” said the vicar.
“Absolutely. And he is the only man I have known, or am ever likely to know, of whom that statement could be truly made. I have known good men, I have known men with high, forward-looking souls, but I have never known a man so near His model that if it had not existed already one almost felt that such a man must have created it. In fact, John Smith will stand out in my experience as the most remarkable case I have known. He believed until he became.”
“As you say, he believed until he became. And he made a prophecy which he has lived to fulfill.”
“What was the prophecy he made?”
“That he would heal the wounds of the world.”
“I wonder, I wonder.”