Gordon sprang to his feet, pale as death, overwhelmed with awe. To have the answer of his prayers, the agonising of his soul for years, answered in the hour of utter defeat thrilled him with a sense of solemnity he had never felt. The man was not a man. He was the messenger swift and beautiful from the courts of heaven, for whose coming his eyes had long strained and his ears listened. Not a doubt of its truth shadowed his mind. He knew it was true. It was the fulfilment of life. It had been ordained from eternity. He had seen it always. Now he saw with his eyes. A paean of exaltation welled within him. With dimmed eyes he grasped the lawyer's hand and fairly crushed it in his iron grip. "My friend, your face will always be beautiful to me, and your name a song of joy. You have come to lift me from the gulf of despair and renew my faith." "With all my heart I congratulate you," he warmly responded. He left his card, and Gordon locked his door, walked back to his desk and fell on his knees. In transports of childlike gratitude he poured out his soul. All the old faith in prayer was in him again, the breath he breathed. He talked to God as to a loving father, promising in broken accents to cleanse his heart of every selfish thought and consecrate anew every energy to his work. And then he caught the perfume of flowers, and saw the face of a woman, and she was not the wife of his youth or the mother of his children. "God forgive me for the drifting of the past," he cried. "I will tear this madness out of my heart and love only Thee. I will be true to the vows taken at Thy altar. I have been wayward and sinned in Thy sight in heart and thought. Wash me in Thy love and I shall be clean, and though my sins be as scarlet they shall be like wool." He rose from his knees determined to go immediately to Kate Ransom, tell her the news, make a clean breast of his love for her, beg her to put the ocean between them, and for all time end their dangerous relationship. She greeted him with reserve, and seemed embarrassed. With impetuous rush he told her the tidings. "I've been lifted from the depths of Sheol to the highest heaven. Every hope and dream of my struggle is a living reality. An unknown millionaire has given the whole sum needed--a million dollars--and our Temple will rise in grandeur!" She smiled timidly, and said: "I knew it would be so. You were glorious this morning." He felt her embarrassment and wondered if she could have divined his grim purpose of separation. "You do not seem so glad as I thought you would be," he said, with something of reproach in his voice. "Some joys are too intense for speech. The scene this morning and your burning message went too deep for words." "I understand," he said softly. "I wonder if you do?" she asked, dropping her eyes. "Yes, and I have come to the hardest task of my life, one of the bitterest and one of the sweetest," he said, with deliberation.