At last, with a sudden dramatic gesture, he turned from the lectern and threw out both arms towards the high gold chair.
"Oh, empty throne! Empty world!" he cried.

"Be filled!" There was something intense, something electric in the words.

A startled cry broke from the people, already wrought to nervous tension.

Some among them rose to their feet; some glanced fearfully behind them; others cowered upon the ground.
And then--in what precise manner no one present ever remembered--the curtain at the doorway of the chapel was swung sharply back; and the tall, straight figure of a man clad all in white moved slowly up the aisle.
He moved forward calmly and deliberately, his gaze fixed, his senses apparently unconscious of the many eyes and tongues from which frightened glances and frightened, awe-struck words escaped as he made his solitary, impressive progress.
Reaching the railing, he paused and lifted one hand as if in benediction towards the red-haired man who still remained in solitary occupation of the Sanctuary.
At the action, a gasp went up from the crowded chapel, and even those who still crouched upon the floor ventured to raise their heads and glance at the spot where the tall figure in the white serge robe stood motionless and impressive.

Then the whole concourse of devotees stirred in involuntary excitement as the red-haired man, with a cry of rapture, rushed forward and prostrated himself at the feet of the stranger.
For a space, that to the watchers seemed interminable, the two central figures remained rigid; then at last the tall man stooped, and with great dignity raised the other.
As he gained his feet, it was obvious that the smaller man was deeply agitated.