Walda’s face became as white as marble. She stood immovable, with one hand pressed against her breast as if she would stop the beating of her heart. She would have spoken, but the Herr Doktor turned to command that the chair of the prophetess be lifted to the centre of the platform. The elders moved to give it space, and, when it had been put in position, Adolph Schneider said: “Come hither to thy rightful place among the elders.” “My place is among the lowliest of the colonists,” said Walda. “Let me stand here while I speak to the people of Zanah.” The elders shook their heads, and the people murmured that they could not hear. Walda walked to the end of the platform where the steps ascended. She moved slowly, pausing for a moment as she passed Gerson Brandt. She crossed the platform with head bowed, but when she faced the multitude there shone in her eyes a strange radiance that filled the colonists with awe. “To all you of Zanah I have a last message,” she said, turning first to the elders and then to the people. “From the years of my childhood ye have led me in the ways of the Lord. Ye have looked upon me as the instrument chosen to reveal the divine will of Zanah. I have prayed through the months and years for the day of inspiration. It was not until this summer that mine eyes were opened to the glory of God. In my heart suddenly gushed a well-spring of happiness. I read meanings in the stars, and the smallest things of earth spake to me. It was as if I walked very near to God.” Walda, pausing, swept the assembly with her eyes. In the exaltation of her mood she had become clothed in a majesty that overawed the people. Some of the women fell to their knees, weeping. “Behold the prophetess! Behold the prophetess! Blessed be her name!” shouted one of the elders. Walda continued, unheeding: “In my heart I felt a gratitude, for I believed that at last the divine revelation had come to me. I thought that the love in my heart, which made all that pertaineth to life sacred, belonged to heaven alone. I thanked God that the baptism of the Holy Spirit had been given me.” Cries of joy ascended from the throng. “In the first days of the inspiration that had come to me I was impatient for this time, when I could dedicate my whole life to the service of Zanah. It seemed easy to live always near to God. Voices spake to me. I believed that I was, indeed, the prophetess of Zanah—the prophetess who could live untouched by human emotions. But one day there was given to me a clearer vision. Just before the beginning of my vigil it was shown to me that mine was not the rapture of the saints”—Walda paused and caught her breath—“I came into the knowledge that my inspiration had its origin in human love.” She pronounced the last words distinctly, with her eyes uplifted. Gerson Brandt uttered her name in an agonized groan. Wilhelm Kellar strove to speak, but his voice died in his throat.