And the noble thoughts, grand in gesture, godlike in bearing, did not pass them by, but spoke to them serene words, and sought to bring them out from their degradation.

And there was no music in this imagined procession which Valentine longed to see.

All was silent as from the gulf of Julian's mind the inhabitants stole furtively to do their mission.

Yes, Valentine knew to-night that he should feel no wonder if thought took form, if a disembodied voice spoke, or a detached hand moved into ripples of the air.

Only he was irritated and alarmed by the abiding sense of some surrounding danger, which stayed with him, which he fought against in vain.