I cannot speak with him before the Gathering assembles; but I can write my confession.

Will you save my Soul?
Will you carry my confession to him ?" Until the words were actually spoken, she did not realize how immensely she had staked upon her chances of success.

In a fever of anxiety she waited, watching the man's gaze as it wavered undecidedly over the Scitsym, then returned, as if magnetized, to her face.
"In twenty minutes the Gathering will be assembled," he murmured.
"I know, I know.

But there is still time.

It is a matter of--of faith--of peace of mind." The man shuffled his feet.
"It--it is impossible," he said.
"Why impossible ?" "Because the Prophet is exalted to-night.