It was not too late, Harker thought. The forces of confusion could be put to rout; the dominion of death could at last have boundaries staked out. But the public faith had to be regained. Some spectacular demonstration, some act of faith that would capture their imagination and end the dominating sway of ignorance. But what? How? Harker had no answer. CHAPTER XIX At Litchfield again, the next day, Harker was reading through a lab report, comprehending not very much of it, when a diffident knock sounded outside his door. Probably Lurie with the papers, he thought. "Come in!" A slim figure in ecclesiastical robes entered. Harker blinked and said, "I didn't expect to see _you_ here, Father Carteret." "Nor I. But I thought I would make the trip." "Sit down," Harker urged. "What's on your mind?" "Jim, I asked you to come to me if you ever had any troubles. You have them now. I thought I'd stop over and find out if I could be of any help." Harker felt faintly irritated. He liked the priest, but he felt no desire for unasked advice. "Father, if you've come to tell me I ought to quit this outfit while I still have my soul, forget it." "The time for telling you that is past." Harker stared at the priest coolly. "Then why are you here?" "To help you. I have a suggestion for you--a rather strange one. But first let me tell you that the Church is reconsidering its stand." "What?" Carteret smiled gently. "The Church moves slowly; don't anticipate anything for the next several years. But I have it on good understanding that as soon as your technique is perfect--that is, as soon as you can restore body and mind every time--the Church will no longer withhold its approval from reanimation." Harker chuckled. "I'd say that bet was pretty well coppered. The _if_ there is a pretty big one." "I know. But a necessary one. I'm praying for your success, Jim." "_You?_ But you warned me away from this thing!" Carteret nodded. "You took the step anyway. And perhaps I made an original error in judgment." "Well, that's neither here nor there. Reanimation is going to be squashed by Congress anyway." "What do you mean?" "Simply that the defect in the process has aroused such public horror that Congress is afraid to legislate in our favor." "And you don't expect to overcome that defect?" "Not immediately. Another six months, maybe--but by that time it'll be too late." Carteret steepled his long thin fingers reflectively. "You tell me, then, that your real problem is a failure of public relations. If you could sell your product to the people, Congress would follow along. "In a word, that's it." "I thought so." "You said you had a suggestion to make," Harker reminded the priest. "I did. It's an idea for capturing the stream of public opinion. I'm anxious to see your project succeed, Jim. It may sound strange, coming from my lips, but that's the truth. I suffered to reach this option." "And what's your idea?"