I was only satisfied of my own consciousness and identity when I found myself on the broad rock terrace in front of the church, with the fierce sunlight beating on my upturned face, and, looking downward, saw far below me the rippled blue of the open sea.
RUPERT'S JOURNAL--_Continued_.
_June_ 3, 1907.
Another week has elapsed--a week full of movement of many kinds and in many ways--but as yet I have had no tale or tidings of my Lady of the Shroud.

I have not had an opportunity of going again in daylight to St.
Sava's as I should have liked to have done.

I felt that I must not go at night.

The night is her time of freedom, and it must be kept for her--or else I may miss her, or perhaps never see her again.
The days have been full of national movement.

The mountaineers have evidently been organizing themselves, for some reason which I cannot quite understand, and which they have hesitated to make known to me.