O, Mystery of Life, from what a depth proceed thy comforts and thy lessons! Even the chance acquaintance had had his meaning, and had done his work. Robert had some wonderful confidences with him, as he lay for a week free of pain, and quietly gathering strength for the journey he must take the moment he was able for it. He had no hesitation as to this journey. He knew that he must go back to Theodora--back to the same goal he had turned away from. Peradventure the blessing he had rejected might yet be waiting there. In ten days Dr. Stuart permitted him to travel, and without pause or regret he reached San Francisco, refreshed himself, and taking a carriage drove out to the Newtons'. It was afternoon when he reached the place, and it had the drowsy afternoon look and feeling. He sent the carriage to the stable, and told the driver to wait there for further orders--and then walked up to the house. As he passed Mr. Newton's study he saw him sitting reading, and he opened the door and went in. The preacher looked up in astonishment, rose and walked towards him. "Robert," he said softly, "is that you?" "Yes, father. I have been very ill. I have come back to ask your forgiveness--and _hers_--if she will listen to me." "I am glad to see you. Sit down. You look ill--what can I do for you?" "Listen to me! I will tell you all." Then he opened his heart freely to the preacher, who listened with intense sympathy and understanding--sometimes speaking a word of encouragement, sometimes only touching his hand, or whispering, "Go on, Robert." And perhaps there was not another man in California, so able to comprehend the marvellous story of Robert's return unto his better self. For he had in a large measure that penetrative insight into spiritualities, which connect man with the unseen world; and that mystical, incommunicable sense of a life, that is not this life. He knew its voices, intuitions, and celestial intimations--things, which no one knoweth, save they who receive them. And when Robert had finished his confession, he said: "I also, Robert, have stood on that shining table-land which lies on the frontier of our consciousness; and there received that blessed _certainty of God_ which can never again leave the soul. And you must not wonder at the suddenness and rapidity of the vision. Every experience of this kind _must_ be sharply sudden. That chasm dividing the seen from the unseen, must be taken at one swift bound, or not at all. You cannot break that leap. Thank God, you have taken it! This remembrance, and the power it has left behind, can never depart from you; for '_Whoso has felt the Spirit of the Highest, Cannot confound, nor doubt Him, nor deny._' The whole world may deny, but what is the voice of the whole world to those, who have _seen_ and _heard_ and _known_ _'A deep below the deep, And a height beyond the height, Where our hearing is not hearing, And our seeing is not sight'?_