Then Oliver had come, she had fought her way back to sanity and confidence; and the phantom had gone again.
How sensible and quiet he had been, she was beginning to tell herself now, as the quiet influence of this huge throng in this glorious place of worship possessed her once more--how reasonable in his explanation that man was even now only convalescent and therefore liable to relapse.
She had told herself that again and again during the night, but it had been different when he had said so.

His personality had once more prevailed; and the name of Felsenburgh had finished the work.
"If He were but here!" she sighed.

But she knew He was far away.
* * * * * It was not until a quarter to eleven that she understood that the crowds outside were clamouring for Him too, and that knowledge reassured her yet further.

They knew, then, these wild tigers, where their redemption lay; they understood what was their ideal, even if they had not attained to it.

Ah! if He were but here, there would be no more question: the sullen waves would sink beneath His call of peace, the hazy clouds lift, the rumble die to silence.