"You are right," he cried, suddenly. "What you say is right. There will be no plunder. The Treasury of the Unseen will remain inviolate!"
As he paused she made no sound; but her eyes rested upon his, fascinated by their feverish brightness; and in the midst of her silent regard he spoke again, bending forward until his lips approached her ear.
"They have laid their plans," he whispered, with a sudden and savage exultation, "but we also have laid ours. And even we cannot reckon upon the consequences. The spiritual enthusiast is not easy to hold in check, once he has been aroused!"
Enid stared at him, the pupils of her eyes dilated, her lips pale.
"You mean—? You mean—?" she stammered; then her fear found voice. "What do you mean?" she demanded, in sharp, alarmed tones.
Bale-Corphew met her question, steadily.
"I mean," he said, with fierce vindictiveness, "that at the Gathering to-night he will be publicly denounced!"
He made the declaration slowly, and each word fell with overwhelming weight upon his companion's understanding. As in the bewildered mazes of a nightmare she saw the crowded chapel, the fanatical, unstable faces of the congregation, the six Arch-Mystics—outraged, incensed, unrelenting; and in their midst the Prophet, tall and grave and masterful, as she had seen him a hundred times. One man facing a sea of ungoverned emotion! At the vision her heart swelled suddenly and her soul sickened. With a gesture, almost as passionate as his own, she turned upon Bale-Corphew.
"You would denounce him before the People?" she said, incredulously. "You would trap him? One man against a hundred! Oh, it would be cowardly! Cruel!"