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There was silence for a moment. "Yes; come then. We will go back to-night anyhow, then. Tell her we shall be late." "Very well." " ... Yes, you must come. Felsenburgh will be there." On the same afternoon Percy received a visitor.
It was not that there was not expectation for London was on tip-toe with excitement. There were rumours of all kinds: Felsenburgh was coming back; he was back; he had never gone. He was to be President of the Council, Prime Minister, Tribune, with full capacities of democratic government and personal sacro-sanctity, even King if not Emperor of the West.
These, then, were the main arguments addressed to that section of the world which still recoiled from the deliberate utterance of Felsenburgh, and their success had been remarkable.
At about a quarter to ten the crowd at the west end of Victoria Street began to raise its voice in a song, and by the time that was over, and the bells had burst out from the Abbey towers, a rumour had somehow made its entrance that Felsenburgh was to be present at the ceremony.
It taught us that the individual was nothing, and that He was all. And now " "Yes, sir," said the other softly. He was really touched. The sad brown eyes opened full. "And now Mr. Felsenburgh is come." He swallowed in his throat. "Julian Felsenburgh!" There was a world of sudden passion in his gentle voice, and Oliver's own heart responded. "I know, sir," he said; "I know all that you mean."
I could hear the talking, and I could see the light; and I dared not go in. Father, it was Felsenburgh in that room." From beneath came the sudden snap of a door; then the sound of footsteps. Percy turned his head abruptly, and at the same moment heard a swift indrawn breath from the old woman. "Hush!" he said. "Who is that?"
Percy stopped, he had become conscious that he was preaching a kind of sermon. "Yes, my son," said the kind voice. "What else?" What else?... Very well, continued Percy, movements such as these brought forth men, and the Man of this movement was Julian Felsenburgh. He had accomplished a work that apart from God seemed miraculous.
Percy had just sat down, tired out with the long ceremonies, when the door opened abruptly, and the Cardinal, still in his robes, came in swiftly, shutting the door behind him. "Father Franklin," he said, in a strange breathless voice, "there is the worst of news. Felsenburgh is appointed President of Europe." It was late that night before Percy returned, completely exhausted by his labours.
Percy inclined to think the second was the most probable; but they were all unconvincing; and he shuffled them carelessly together and replaced them. Then he put his elbows on the table, and began to think. He tried to remember what Mr. Varhaus, the American senator, had told him of Felsenburgh; yet it did not seem sufficient to account for the facts.
And I will not answer that until you have heard what I have to say." "Say it, then." "Sit down, then." She shook her head. "Very well, then.... Well, this is the point. The world is one now, not many. Individualism is dead. It died when Felsenburgh became President of the World. You surely see that absolutely new conditions prevail now there has never been anything like it before.
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