"Silence!" he cried. "There is no need for interference. This matter is between the People and myself." With a pale face and burning eyes he stepped forward, and standing beside the Arch-Mystic confronted the congregation.
"I will tell you everything that this man would tell you," he said, in a steady voice. "I believe I will even use the word he himself would choose. I am a thief! I am a thief—in intention if not in act!"
The effect of the word was tremendous. A perfectly audible gasp went up from the breathless crowd; and, by one accord, the people rose and swayed upward towards the Sanctuary.
Calm and immovable as a rock, the Prophet held his place.
"Yes," he said, steadily, "until this morning I have virtually been a thief. Until this morning it was my firm intention to take by force that which should have come to me as my right. The fact that my intention faltered at the last moment does not affect the case. I wish to make no appeal. My desire"—his voice suddenly quickened—"my desire is plainly and simply to state my case.
"Morally I have done you no wrong. My teaching has been the expounding of simple truths, that my personal action could not desecrate. I stand before you to-night empty-handed as I came. The one thing I claim from you is judgment!
"Judge me! I am in your hands. If you think I deserve punishment, punish me! If you think circumstances have made me what I am, then stand aside! Let me pass out of your lives!"
There was a great silence; then a woman's sharp cry rang out across the chapel, as, with a savage movement, three of the Arch-Mystics sprang upon the Prophet.
"Sacrilege! Sacrilege!" Bale-Corphew's voice rose loud and violent.
But he had calculated without his host. The fanaticism of a crowd is a dangerous weapon with which to tamper, and the dethronement of a king is not accomplished in a day. With the speed of light, the element he had unloosed turned upon himself.