“There is just time. But, Bishop, will you go? There is so much still to say. Stay a little while!”

“What I have failed to say in twenty years, can I say now? In a little while?”

“Say it!” pleaded Newbold, “say it!”

Like a physical need, like hunger, the Bishop felt the blind desire to feel the chancel quiet about him, to offer once more to his people the cup of Christ. Yet before him here and now, in this silent room, a soul a-thirst.

“What is it, lad, that you want from me?”

“You believe it, Bishop?” Newbold burst forth.

“What?”

“What we preach. I never knew any man to believe it as you do. How?”

“How otherwise?”

“I never knew any other man who had found peace. How?”