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Chapter XXXV

           SoIthinkatthishour,whenIlookbacktothecrisisthroughthequietmediumoftime:Iwasunconsciousoffollyattheinstant. 

           Istoodmotionlessundermyhierophant’stouch.Myrefusalswereforgotten—myfearsovercome—mywrestlingsparalysed. TheImpossible—I.E.,mymarriagewithSt.John—wasfastbecomingthePossible.Allwaschangingutterlywithasuddensweep. Religioncalled—Angelsbeckoned—Godcommanded—liferolledtogetherlikeascroll—death’sgatesopening,showedeternitybeyond:itseemed,thatforsafetyandblissthere,allheremightbesacrificedinasecond.Thedimroomwasfullofvisions. 

           "Couldyoudecidenow?"askedthemissionary.Theinquirywasputingentletones:hedrewmetohimasgently. Oh,thatgentleness!howfarmorepotentisitthanforce! IcouldresistSt.John’swrath:Igrewpliantasareedunderhiskindness. YetIknewallthetime,ifIyieldednow,Ishouldnotthelessbemadetorepent,someday,ofmyformerrebellion. Hisnaturewasnotchangedbyonehourofsolemnprayer:itwasonlyelevated. 

           "IcoulddecideifIwerebutcertain,"Ianswered:"wereIbutconvincedthatitisGod’swillIshouldmarryyou,Icouldvowtomarryyouhereandnow—comeafterwardswhatwould!" 

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