They went out into the smoking-room. A group of men were clustered at the great, wide window that looked out upon the street below. Some of the men were standing, some were sitting. Among them was Pontius Pilate. He looked up at Gilderman as he drew near. He was a large, rather fat, smooth-faced man. His skin was colorless and sallow. He had a high, bald forehead, closely cropped gray hair, a hooked nose, and keen, gray eyes deep set under straight, hard brows. His face was square, and his mouth was set in a singular impassivity of expression. His whole face wore the same air of impassive calm--it was like a mask that covered the life within. He looked rather than spoke recognition as Gilderman approached. Gilderman drew near. The man who was talking was one Latimer-Moire. He had just returned from an automobile expedition, during which he had come into touch with the marvellous works that were afterwards to stir the whole world into a religious belief. He was telling the others how the divine miracles of Christ appeared to a young Roman who, like himself, looked down upon them from the pinnacle of his earthly station. "... And, by Jove! I tell you what it is," he said, "you fellows have no idea of all the crazy hurrah those poor devils are kicking up down there. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it. You can't even get a decent meal anywhere for the crowds of people everywhere who eat up everything. You can't go anywhere but you hear of the Man and His miracles. It wasn't till we got to that place, though, that we struck the worst of it all. The town was full of people--a beastly crowd. "Well, nothing would do Tommy Ryan but he must see one of those miracles they're all talking about. So we put up at the hotel, and got some one to show us where He was to be found. Tommy's man went along with us, and it was a good thing we took him, for when we got near the house, there was the street all packed and jammed with the crowd. It seemed there was a delegation of preachers and elders or something, who had come to interview Him and get Him to do something. Tommy was all for seeing what they were at. So his man, and another fellow he tipped, pushed a way for us through the crowd, and we managed to get into the house. We contrived to edge our way along the entry until we came to a room where He and the ministers were. The place was packed so that we could hardly see anything. Hot? Well, rather! And so close that we could hardly draw a breath. As for the smell--you could cut it with a knife--I thought of all kinds of things you might catch and be sick.