If at this point readers of the _Daily Wire_ express incredulity at what follows we can only say that we guarantee the substantial accuracy of our report in the completest way. After the actual interment of the corpse, and amid the wailing cries of the vast multitude of mourners, a man mounted the cairn of boulders which forms the highest part of the mountain--the exact summit, so to speak. Immediately the sounds of mourning were hushed, as if at the beat of a conductor's bâton. Our correspondents describe the scene as wonderfully impressive and without parallel in their very varied experience. It was a cloudy morning, and somewhat chill in those high places. Yet a beam of sunlight, white and sudden, fell upon the tall figure upon the cairn. Every one could see the man quite distinctly; every one knew that this was the stranger known as Joseph, who had been the companion of Lluellyn Lys during the last weeks of his life. The sudden silence was perhaps due to the fact of this universal knowledge, but equally, perhaps, to another and extraordinary fact. Joseph in appearance resembles the traditional pictures of the Christ in an astounding manner. It seems almost irreverent to write these words. But they are written with no such intention. This man, whoever he may be--charlatan and impostor, or sincere saint and reformer of our own day--is the living, walking image of that idea which all the world has of Him who died upon the Cross! The words came; not very many, neither mystical nor obscure, but plain statements of intention. Yet the voice hushed that vast multitude of people as if with a magician's wand. Deep and clear, full of a music that our correspondents say no orator of our day can compass, a voice that goes straight to the heart--so, we are informed, was the voice of this man Joseph. The substance of his speech was startling--an actual shorthand report of the words will be found upon another page: This man, call him what you will, believes that he has a Divine mission to come to London, that he may warn it of its sins and bring its inhabitants to the foot of the Cross. With a band of disciples--we must use the word--he is even now speeding towards the metropolis. A dozen or more people are with him, and it is also said that the sister of the late Teacher, a very beautiful girl, who was formerly a hospital nurse, has joined the little band of fanatics. One thing is quite certain. London is on the eve of a new and most extraordinary sensation. Thus the article concluded. Lady Kirwan gave a gasp of dismay.