Himself upon the Cross. It does not matter if you understand. It does not matter if you seem to fail. You know———in the core of your hearts you know. There is no promise, there is no security———nothing to go upon but Faith. There is no faith but faith———faith which is courage...."
Things that he had long wished to believe, he found that he believed. He spoke gustily, in broken, incomplete sentences, but with all his heart and strength, of this new faith within him. He spoke of the greatness of self-abnegation, of his belief in an immortal life of Humanity in which we live and move and have our being. His voice rose and fell, and the recording appliances hummed as he spoke, dim attendants watched him out of the shadow.... His sense of that silent spectator beside him sustained his sincerity. For a few glorious moments he was carried away; he felt no doubt of his heroic quality, no doubt of his heroic words, he had it all straight and plain. His eloquence limped no longer. And at last he made an end to speaking. "Here and now," he cried, "I make my will. All that is mine in the world I give to the people of the world. All that is mine in the world I give to the people of the world. To all of you. I give it to you, and myself I give to you. And as God wills to-night, I will live for you, or I will die."
He ended. He found the light of his present exaltation reflected in the face of the girl. Their eyes met; her eyes were swimming with tears of enthusiasm. "I knew," she whispered. "Oh, Father of the World———Sire! I knew you would say these things...."
"I have said what I could," he answered lamely, and for a moment held her outstretched hands.
The man in yellow was beside them. Neither had noted his coming. He was saying that the south-west wards were marching. "I never expected it so soon," he cried. "They have done wonders. You must send them a word to help them on their way."
