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ly upon the girl's sleeve。 Maggie； watching； felt the strangest little pang of jealousy。 That was the way that she should have behaved； been warm and demonstrative from the beginningbut she could not。
Even now she stood back in the shadows of the room； watching them all with large grave eyes； hoping that they would not notice her。
With Mr。 Warlock and his son also Miss Smith seemed perfectly at home； chattering； laughing up into young Warlock's eyes； as though there were some especial understanding between them。 Maggie； nevertheless； fancied that he； young Warlock； was not listening to her。 His eyes wandered。 He had that same restlessness of body that she had before noticed in him； swinging a little on his legs set apart； his hands clasped behind his thick broad back。 He had some compelling interest for her。 He had had that； she now realised； since the first moment that she had seen him。 It might be that the things that that girl had told her about him increased her interest and； perhaps her sympathy？ But it was his strange detached air of observation that held heras though he were a being from some other planet watching them all； liking them； but bearing no kind of relation to them except that of a cheerful observerit was this that attracted her。 She liked his thick； rough untidy hair； the healthy red brown of his cheeks； his light blue eyes； his air of vigour and bodily health。
As she waited she was startled into consciousness by a voice in her ear。 She turned to find the elder Mr。 Warlock beside her。
〃You will forgive my speaking to you； Miss Cardinal。 I saw you at our Chapel this morning。〃
His great height towered above her short clumsy figure； he seemed to peer down at her from above his snowy beard as though he were the inhabitant of some other world。 His voice was of an extreme kindliness and his eyes； when she looked up at him； shone with friendliness。 She found herself； to her own surprise； talking to him with great ease。 He was perfectly simple； human and unaffected。 He asked her about her country。
〃I spend my days in longing to get back to my own placeand perhaps I shall never see it again。 I was born in WiltshireSalisbury Plain。 My great…grandfather； my grandfather； my father； they all were ministers of our Chapel there before me。 They had no thought in their day of London。 I have always missed that space； the quiet。 I shall always miss it。 Towns are not friendly to me。〃
She told him about St。 Dreots； a little about her father。
〃Ah； you're lucky！〃 he said。 〃You'll return many times before you dieand you'll find no change there。 Those places do not change as towns do。〃
They were standing apart from the others near the window。 He suddenly put his hand on her arm； smiling at her。
〃My dear；〃 he said。 〃You don't mind me saying 'My dear；' but an old man has his privilegeswill you come and see us whenever you care to？ My wife will be so glad。 I know that at first one can be lonely in this great place。 Just come in when you please。〃
He took her hand for a moment and then turned back to Aunt Anne； who was now pouring out tea at a little table by the fire。
Martin Warlock； as his father moved away； came across to her； She had known that he would do that as though something had been arranged between them。 When he came to her； however； he stood there before her and had nothing to say。 She also had nothing to say。 His eyes searched her face； then he broke out abruptly。
〃Are you better？〃
〃I'm all right；〃 she answered him brusquely。 〃Please don't say anything about yesterday。 It was an idiotic thing to do。〃
〃That's what I came about to…dayto see how you were；〃 he answered her； his eyes laughing at her。 〃I should never have dreamed of coming otherwise； you know。 I saw you in chapel this morning so I guessed you were all right； but it seemed such bad luck fainting right off the minute you got here。〃
〃I've never fainted in my life before；〃 she answered。
〃No； you don't look the sort of girl who'd faint。 But I suppose you've had a rotten time with your father and all。〃
His eyes still searched for hers。 She determined that she would not look at him； her heart was beating strangely and； although she did not look； she could in some sub…conscious way see the rough toss of his hair against his forehead； she could smell the stuff of his coat。 But she would not look up。
〃You're going to live here； aren't you？〃
〃Yes；〃 she said。
〃I've only just come back；〃 he went on。
〃I know；〃 she said。
〃Oh！ of course； that girl；〃 jerking his head in the direction of the tea…table and laughing。 〃She told you。 She's been here this afternoon； hasn't she？ She chatters like anything。 Don't you believe half she says。〃
There was another pause。 The voices at the tea…table seemed to come from very far away。
Then he said roughly； moving a very little nearer to her：
〃I'm glad you've come。〃
At that she raised her eyes； her cheeks flushed。 She looked him full in the face； her head up。 Her heart thundered in her breast。 She felt as though she were at the beginning of some tremendous adventurean adventure enthralling； magnificentand perilous。
PART II
THE CHARIOT OF FIRE
CHAPTER I
THE WARLOCKS
There is beyond question； in human nature； such a thing as an inherited consciousness of God； and this consciousness； if inherited through many generations； may defy apparent reason； all progress of vaunted civilisations； and even； it may be suggested； the actual challenge of death itself。
This consciousness of God had been quite simply the foundation of Mr。 Warlock's history。 In the middle of the eighteenth century it expressed itself in the formula of John Wesley's revival； the John Wesley of that day preached up and down the length and breadth of Westmoreland； Cumberland； Northumberland； Durham； and being a fighter； a preacher and a simple…minded human being at one and the same time； received a large following and died full of years and honours。
It was somewhere about 1830 that this John's grandson； James Warlock； Martin's grandfather； broke from the main body and led his little flock on to the wide spaces of Salisbury Plain。 James Warlock； unlike his father and grandfather； was a little sickly man with a narrow chest； no limbs to speak of and a sharp pale face。 Martin had a faded daguerreotype of him set against the background of the old Wiltshire kitchen； his black clothes hung upon him like a disguise； his eyes burning even upon that faded picture with the fire of his spirit。 For James Warlock was a mystic； a visionary； a prophet。 He walked and talked with God； in no jesting spirit it was said that he knew God's plans and could turn the world into a blazing coal so soon as he pleased。 It was because he knew with certainty that God would； in person； soon； descend upon the earth that he separated from the main body and led his little band down into Wiltshire。 Here on the broad gleaming Plain they prepared for God's coming。 Named now the Kingscote Brethren after their new abode； they built a Chapel； sat down and waited。 Then in 1840 the prophet declared that the Coming was not yet； that it would be in the next generation； but that their preparations must not be relaxed。 He him