"People," he demanded, "will you refuse the Prophet the right of speech? Will you refuse to hear the Prophet's words?"
"This is sacrilege! Sacrilege!" Norov suddenly raised his voice. "Listen to your Councillor!"
"Listen to the Prophet! The Voice of the Prophet calls upon you. Will you deny it?" The Precursor's voice shook with excitement.
"This is the truth! I tell you the truth!" Bale-Corphew appealed to the people with out-stretched arms.
But the tumult broke forth again.
"Mystics! Mystics!" Old Arian's shrill, alarmed tones rose for an instant, only to be drowned in the clamor.
Then out of the confused babel of sound one cry became distinguishable.
"The Prophet! The Prophet! Let the Prophet speak!"
For a space confusion reigned; then, answering to the demand, the Prophet again lifted his right hand.
As though it exercised some potent spell, his calm, imperious gesture subdued the turmoil. When silence had been restored he began to speak; and never, since he had addressed the first Gathering, had so deep a note of domination and decision been audible in his voice.