“Now look straight for’ard,” said Mr. Welsh, “and distinguish. You call this affair of yours and the book—a revelation. There are revelations, my friend, that may be written with a capital R, and others that have to begin with a small cap.” Mr. Welsh was not particular about the English he spoke, but he wrote it well, at least passably. “The sort of revelation that suits me, one with a capital R, is that at which a shorthand reporter assists. That’s the sort of revelation we get in the courts—that is, as the French say, _controlé_. But on the other hand comes your hole-and-corner revelation, which has more given it than is its due when written with a little _r_. No reporter, no public present, totally uncontrolled; that sort of revelation is no use to me. I don’t mean to say but that sort of thing may go down at revivals, but for the press it is no good at all.” “Am I likely to have imagined it? What should have put the thought of ‘The Gilded Clique’ into my head?” asked Saltren angrily. “I tell you I believe in this revelation as I believe that I see you before me.” “Gilded Clique!” repeated Welsh, “I can’t say, but Gaboriau’s criminal novel may have fallen under your eyes.” “What is that?” “A French novel with that title. It has been translated.” “Now see!” exclaimed Captain Saltren, kindling, springing up, and waving his arms, “I never have set eyes on such a book, never heard of it before. But nothing that you could have said would have confirmed me in my conviction more than this. It shows that the devil is active, and that to draw away attention from, and to weaken the force of my revelation, he has caused a book to be circulated under the same name. I should not be surprised if you told me it had a blood-red cover.” “It has one.” “There!” cried Saltren, “now nothing will ever shake my faith. When the devil strives to defeat the purposes of Heaven, it is because he fears those purposes. My solemn and sincere conviction is——” He lowered his voice, but though low it shook with emotion. “My belief is that the book I saw was the Everlasting Gospel. John saw an angel flying in heaven having that book in his right hand, but it was not then communicated to man. The time was not ripe. Now, at last, towards the end of the ages, that book has been cast down, and its purport disclosed.” “You didn’t happen to see the angel?” asked Welsh sneeringly.