The bitter disappointment that he felt at first had by no means passed away. He quite believed all that Walter Grey had told him. This, from his point of view, was both natural and reasonable. His forefathers had gone forth to propagate the worship of the Sun, as the best and purest religion they knew. And yet that worship had not wholly satisfied the more intelligent amongst them; and they had turned readily, nay, eagerly, to the Spaniards as the depositaries of a more satisfying faith, which they gladly learned from them. But José had had abundant cause to suspect that the Spaniards were not what they professed to be, the chief favourites of the true, invisible God, nor their kind of worship the most acceptable that could be offered to Him. What more reasonable than to suppose that the wise and powerful English, from whom he hoped so much, would be better instructed? But, granted that Walter’s words were true, what they revealed was still “a mystery of the Faith,” and nothing more. And in far more educated minds than José’s mist and mystery are closely allied. The hopes that had seemed so real, so substantial, so near, were relegated at once to the land of dreams and shadows. Hence the chill disappointment, the utter helpless sadness, that settled down upon his soul. After a long interval of desultory brooding, that did not deserve the name of thought, he roused himself, trimmed the lamp Fray Fernando had left lighted, and sat down to read over, yet once more, that sublime psalm—the song of the King who should reign in righteousness. With kindling eyes, and a beating heart, he followed the description of what the King should be. Step by step his soul seemed lifted upwards, until at last it reached the footstool of God Himself—“The Lord God of Israel, who only doeth wondrous things.” “‘Blessed be His holy name for ever,’” José read half aloud, “‘and let the whole earth be filled with His glory. Amen, and amen!’ His glory—whose? The great King’s? No, God’s—the God of Israel’s. And yet the great King’s also, if Señor Hualter’s words be true—for He is God—God and man—Sufferer, Saviour, Redeemer, King.” Thus for the first time, in all its grandeur, the great Truth broke upon his mind. It was like the uprising of the sun—a rapid tropical sunrise.