She went at last, hopelessly, to the telephone, and looked at it. There it was, that round silent mouth, that little row of labelled buttons. She half decided to touch them one by one, and inquire whether anything had been heard of her husband: there was his club, his office in Whitehall, Mr. Phillips’s house, Parliament-house, and the rest. But she hesitated, telling herself to be patient. Oliver hated interference, and he would surely soon remember and relieve her anxiety. Then, even as she turned away, the bell rang sharply, and a white label flashed into sight.--WHITEHALL. She pressed the corresponding button, and, her hand shaking so much that she could scarcely hold the receiver to her ear, she listened. “Who is there?” Her heart leaped at the sound of her husband’s voice, tiny and minute across the miles of wire. “I--Mabel,” she said. “Alone here.” “Oh! Mabel. Very well. I am back: all is well. Now listen. Can you hear?” “Yes, yes.” “The best has happened. It is all over in the East. Felsenburgh has done it. Now listen. I cannot come home to-night. It will be announced in Paul’s House in two hours from now. We are communicating with the Press. Come up here to me at once. You must be present.... Can you hear?” “Oh, yes.” “Come then at once. It will be the greatest thing in history. Tell no one. Come before the rush begins. In half-an-hour the way will be stopped.” “Oliver.” “Yes? Quick.” “Mother is ill. Shall I leave her?” “How ill?” “Oh, no immediate danger. The doctor has seen her.” There was silence for a moment. “Yes; come then. We will go back to-night anyhow, then. Tell her we shall be late.” “Very well.” “... Yes, you must come. Felsenburgh will be there.” CHAPTER IV I On the same afternoon Percy received a visitor. There was nothing exceptional about him; and Percy, as he came downstairs in his walking-dress and looked at him in the light from the tall parlour-window, came to no conclusion at all as to his business and person, except that he was not a Catholic. “You wished to see me,” said the priest, indicating a chair. “I fear I must not stop long.” “I shall not keep you long,” said the stranger eagerly. “My business is done in five minutes.” Percy waited with his eyes cast down. “A--a certain person has sent me to you. She was a Catholic once; she wishes to return to the Church.” Percy made a little movement with his head. It was a message he did not very often receive in these days. “You will come, sir, will you not? You will promise me?” The man seemed greatly agitated; his sallow face showed a little shining with sweat, and his eyes were piteous. “Of course I will come,” said Percy, smiling. “Yes, sir; but you do not know who she is. It--it would make a great stir, sir, if it was known. It must not be known, sir; you will promise me that, too?” “I must not make any promise of that kind,” said the priest gently. “I do not know the circumstances yet.”