"Yes, sir," said the other softly. He was really touched.
The sad brown eyes opened full.
"And now Mr. Felsenburgh is come." He swallowed in his throat. "Julian Felsenburgh!" There was a world of sudden passion in his gentle voice, and Oliver's own heart responded.
"I know, sir," he said; "I know all that you mean."
"Oh! to have a Saviour at last!" cried Francis. "One that can be seen and handled and praised to His Face! It is like a dream—too good to be true!"
Oliver glanced at the clock, and rose abruptly, holding out his hand.
"Forgive me, sir. I must not stay. You have touched me very deeply.... I will speak to Snowford. Your address is here, I understand?"
He pointed to the papers.
"Yes, Mr. Brand. There is one more question."
"I must not stay, sir," said Oliver, shaking his head.
"One instant—is it true that this worship will be compulsory?"
Oliver bowed as he gathered up his papers.
II
Mabel, seated in the gallery that evening behind the President's chair, had already glanced at her watch half-a-dozen times in the last hour, hoping each time that twenty-one o'clock was nearer than she feared. She knew well enough by now that the President of Europe would not be half-a-minute either before or after his time.
