At the other end of the edifice, opposite the platform, an enormous arch had been constructed as an entrance to the hall, through which the crowd could watch the slow progress of the procession in the distance, as it came up the broad avenue bordered with exotic plants. From where they were seated in the hall, it was difficult to distinguish the exact details of that triumphal procession, but they could discern in the sunshine a dazzling object carried in state by several male figures. This was the casket, or, as it was more appropriately called, the Reliquary, which contained the instrument designed by the Seer to bring universal happiness. The bearers of this heavy burden were numerous, for the Reliquary was large and weighty, and strong muscles were needed to lift up and down this solid mass of gold. Not only had the great of the land volunteered to fulfil the humble duties of bearers in this unparalleled pageant, but men who held exalted positions at Court had of one accord given up their coronets and decorations, their military orders and medals, in order that these might be melted down and recast into this magnificent casket. Likewise had Royal Princesses, and the flower of feminine aristocracy, unhesitatingly handed over to the Seer all their tiaras, necklaces and costly jewels, to ornament the outside of this precious receptacle. It was an impressive sight, and one which no living man could compare with any past pageant in history, to see these men, who three months ago had firmly believed in the power of wealth and position, standing now shoulder to shoulder divested of their worldly masks and leading the way to the happy goal. Perhaps also their hearts throbbed with pride as they thought of the private ceremony which was to follow this public function: a special train was to carry the Reliquary and the bearers to Dover, where, from the pier, they would hurl the symbol of all past vanities into the Channel. They thirsted for this last act of self-abnegation, and moreover they felt that it would be a salutary hint to the nation over the way. The clock struck twelve, and as the last stroke vibrated through the clear atmosphere, the head of the procession passed through the porch.