A roar came up the church--passionate--indescribable.

Lucy held her breath.
There--there he is,--the old man! Caught in a great shaft of sunlight striking from south to north, across the church, and just touching the chapel of the Holy Sacrament--the Pope emerges.

The white figure, high above the crowd, sways from side to side; the hand upraised gives the benediction.

Fragile, spiritual as is the apparition, the sunbeam refines, subtilises, spiritualises it still more.

It hovers like a dream above the vast multitudes--surely no living man!--but thought, history, faith, taking shape; the passion of many hearts revealed.