Part One Saint and Sceptic Chapter 4 Angelus Domine

The next morning dawned pallidly over a sea of gray mist--not a glimpse of the landscape was visible--nothing but a shadowy vastness of floating vapor that moved slowly fold upon fold, wave upon wave, as though bent on blotting out the world. A very faint, chill light peered through the narrow arched window of the room where Alwyn lay, still wrapped in that profound repose, so like the last long sleep from which some of our modern scientists tell us there can be no awakening. His condition was unchanged,--the wan beams of the early clay falling cross his features intensified their waxen stillness and pallor,--the awful majesty of death was on him,--the pathetic helplessness and perishableness of Body without Spirit.

Presently the monastery bell began to ring for matins, and as its clear chime struck through the deep silence, the door opened, and Heliobas, accompanied by another monk, whose gentle countenance and fine, soft eyes betokened the serenity of his disposition, entered the apartment. Together they approached the couch, and gazed long and earnestly at the supernaturally slumbering man.

"He is still far away!" said Heliobas at last, sighing as he spoke. "So far away that my mind misgives me. ... Alas, Hilarion! how limited is our knowledge! ... even with all the spiritual aids of spiritual life how little can be accomplished! We learn one thing, and another presents itself--we conquer one difficulty, and another instantly springs up to obstruct our path. Now if I had only had the innate perception required to foresee the possible flight of this released Immortal. creature, might I not have saved it from some incalculable misery and suffering?"