He led him to the edge of the plateau. "Look!" he said. The mist had gone. From that great height they looked down the steep, pine-clothed sides of the mountain to the little white village, far, far below. Beyond was the shining, illimitable ocean. "The world is very fair," Joseph said. "The world is very fair because God is immanent in all things. God is in the sea, and on the sides of the hills. The Holy Ghost broods over those distant waters, and is with us here in this high place. Joseph, from the moment when the cross-wise timbers struck you down in Whitechapel, until this very moment now, you have been led here under the direct guidance of the Holy Ghost. There is a certain work for you to do." Joseph looked at the tall man with the grave, sweet smile in startled astonishment. "What do I bring?" he said. "I, the poor, battered wreck, the unknown, the downtrodden? What do I bring _you_?" Lluellyn looked Joseph in the face, and placed one long, lean hand upon his shoulder. "Ask rather what you bring God," he said. "It were a more profitable question. For me, in the power and guidance of the Lord, it is ordained that you bring one thing only." "And what is that?" "Death!" said Lluellyn Lys. CHAPTER V THE POURING Lluellyn Lys lived in a cottage on the side of the mountain where Joseph had first been taken to meet him. His small income was enough for his almost incredibly simple wants, and an ancient widow woman who loved and reverenced him more than anything else in the world kept the cottage for him, milked the cow, and did such frugal cooking as was necessary. Lluellyn was known far and wide in that part of Wales. The miners, the small crofting farmers, and the scattered shepherds revered and honored the mysterious "Teacher" as men of God, were revered in the old times. His influence was very great in the surrounding mining villages; he had been able to do what sometimes even the parish priests had tried in vain. The drunkard, the man of a foul and blasphemous tongue, loose-livers and gamblers, had become sober and God-fearing folk, with their hearts set upon the Eternal Light. No one knew when the tall ascetic figure would appear among them with a strange appropriateness. It was said that he possessed the gift of second sight, and many extraordinary stories were told of him. His sermons were wonderful in their directness and force, their strange magnetic power. He had a mysterious knowledge of men's hearts, and would often make a personal appeal to some sinner who had stayed to hear him--an appeal full of such accurate and intimate knowledge of his listener's inner life and secret actions that it appeared miraculous.