METROPOLIS' him that it was day, that the invulnerable transformation of darkness into light was becoming consummate, in its great~ . . ness, in its kindliness, over the w;arld. "Come to yourself, Maria. belovedl" he said, entreating her with his caresses, with his love. "Come to me, belovedl Come to mel" The soft response of her heart-beat, of her breathing, caused a laugh to well up from his throat and the fervour of bis whispered words died on ber lips. Joh Fredersen caugbt the sound of his son's laugh. He was already near the door of the cathedral. He stopped and looked at the stack of pillars. in the delicate, canopied niches of which stood the saintly men and women, smiling gently. "You bave suflered," thought his dream-filJed brain. "You have been redeemed by suffering. You have attained to bliss.... Is it worth while to sufler?-Yes." And he walked out of the cathedral on feet which were still as though dead, tentatively, he stepped through the mighty door-way, stood dazzled in the light and swayed as though drunken. For the 'wine of suffering which he had drunk, was very heavy, and intoxicating, and white-hot. His soul spoke within him as he reeled along: "1 will go home and look for my mother."
CHAPTERXXN "FnEDER . . .
po> said the soft Madonna-voice.
"Yes, you belovedl Speak to mel Speak to me'" "Where are weP" "In the cathedral:'
"Is it day or nigh!?" "It is day." "Wasn't your father here, with us, just now?" uyes; you beloved:'
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