\" He looked crestfallen. Sir Cecil, who with Rowland and some others had entered the room rushed to the window with a torch. Your face has flitted out of my watch-fire, and then I have been a haunted man. Don't lay it all to the boy. . Hanging on the wall was a temple censer, bronze, moulded in the shape of a lotus blossom with stem and leaves—deadly as a club. What was his transport on perceiving that a few yards above him a light was burning. As if God would not continue to mock him so long as his brain held a human thought! God had given him a pearl without price, and he had misunderstood until this day.
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