As she passed slowly and automatically up the aisle, the man turned and looked at her; but after a cursory glance returned to his task of setting the Sanctuary in order.
The look and the evident unconcern chilled and daunted her anew. With a movement of despair she paused, and sank into one of the empty chairs.
For a space that seemed eternal, she sat huddled in her seat—her hands clasped nervously in her lap; her ears alert to catch the slightest sound; her eyes unconsciously following the movements of the man within the Sanctuary; then, suddenly and abruptly, the tension snapped; and action—action of some description—became imperative. She rose from her seat.
After she had risen, she stood aimlessly looking about her at the black-and-white walls, at the rows of chairs, at the gleaming octagonal symbol that hung from the roof; then, as if magnetically attracted, her glance travelled back to the man inside the Sanctuary rail.
There was nothing remarkable in the spare figure, moving reverently from one sacred object to another; but as her eyes rested on the colorless, ascetic face, her own cheeks flushed with a new hope—a new inspiration. With a quick movement she glanced furtively behind her; and, stepping carefully between the chairs, regained the aisle and moved swiftly and noiselessly up the chapel.
Her heart was beating so fast, the nervous strain was so intense, that when she reached the railing she stood for a moment unable to command her voice. And when the Mystic—becoming suddenly aware of her near presence—turned and confronted her, a faint sound of nervous alarm slipped from her.
For a space the two looked at each other; and at last the man appeared to realize that something was expected of him. Bending his head, he uttered the formula of the sect.
"In what can I serve you?"
The familiar words braced Enid. She glanced at him afresh, and in that glance her plan of action arranged itself. For one moment, as she had walked up the aisle, her hand had sought her purse, but now, as she scanned the ascetic face of this unworldly servant, her fingers involuntarily loosened and the purse slipped back into her pocket. With a new resolve, she looked him straight in the eyes.
"You can do me a great service—a very great service," she said, quietly, in her soft, clear voice.