Gwyon's face was suffused with a flush which deepened as they sat locked rigidly hand and wrist together; and as it did the face that Gwyon looked into drained of all color until the skin was near translucent, so that it might have been not two processes but one continuous seepage of life. — No one can teach Resurrection without first suffering death himself. No one can be reborn without dying. No one can be Mithras' priest without being reborn… to teach them to observe Sunday, and keep sacred the twenty-fifth of December as the birthday of the sun. Natalis invicti, the Unconquered Sun, Gwyon finished, turning his face to the window.
— But I… you… to worship the sun?
Gwyon let go his wrist abruptly, and he drew it back.
— Nonsense, said Gwyon, brisk now. — We let them think so, he confided, — those outside the mysteries. But our own votaries know Mithras as the deity superior to it, in fact the power behind the sun. Here, his name you see. . Gwyon revealed the marginal notes on the newspaper clipping. — Abraxas and Mithras have the same numerical value, the cycle of the year as the sun's orbit describes it. Abraxas, you know, the resident of the highest Gnostic heaven. .
The scuffling of feet sounded on the porch outside. Janet passed through the room hurriedly, behind them. Gwyon reached for his wrist again. It was not there, and Gwyon's hand gripped the edge of the table. — "The gods are benevolent and regardful of the human race," says Elisæus, Gwyon said almost in a whisper. — "If only men acknowledge the greatness of the gods and their own insignificance, and take pleasure in the gifts of the earth distributed by the hands of the king. ."
Janet's footsteps sounded in the front hall, and the door banged open, spilling voices into the house. Gwyon paused. His hand shook on the edge of the table, and his lip quivered. — Mithras means friend, he said, — mediator. Mithras is mediator between the gods and the lower world. He waited anxiously, as though for confirmation, as footsteps approached in the hall.
— Hell? the lower world, hell? came in distracted query.
— Our own earth, Reverend Gwyon answered, and was silent until Janet's voice broke in upon them from the doorway, and he leaped up.
— It's the Use-Me Ladies to see you, Reverend, said she.
Reverend Gwyon was through the doorway in the other direction before she'd finished her sentence, muttering — I'll… be a minute, as he passed her. The study door banged, and from inside the sound of a book hurled to the floor a moment later.
Janet fled to the kitchen, as footsteps sounded straight down the front hall to the dining room. Three ladies came in. The cold came in with them; it clung round them as they came to a stop.
— Reverend. .
— Reverend. .
— I beg your pardon. We have come to see Reverend Gwyon.
— Oh, I… I… He just went out.
— Went out?
— Went out?
— But in this kind of weather he never goes out. Reverend Gwyon is always irritable when the sky clouds over and we have bad weather.
— No, I mean. . just out of the room. He'll be right back.
— I see.
— We'll wait. And are you visiting here?
— I? Why, you might say… — It may have surprised you, when we mistook you for Reverend Gwyon.
— But there is a resemblance.
— There is a resemblance. Of course Reverend Gwyon is a good deal bigger.
— A good deal older. But as you're dressed, you may see where we make our mistake. Are you in the Lord's work?
— I? why I… Yes, I'm. .
— I can't see where I saw the resemblance.
—. . the Reverend Gilbert Sullivan.
— But just for a minute. .
— Just for a minute I saw it too. It may be that only this morning we were speaking of Reverend Gwyon's son.
— Who has been away a very long time.
— The prodigal son.
— But he has no brothers.
— Yes, the poor boy.
— Poor Camilla., — May was really a mother to him.
— Poor May.
— It was a severe trial for everyone.
— He wasn't a strong boy.
— But then Camilla…
— Poor Camilla…
— Poor Camilla never was strong.
— Taken and left in foreign lands. Left to lie among Roman Catholics.
— I trust the Reverend Gilbert Sullivan is not a Roman Catholic priest? The name. .
— The name…
— Me? Good God, no. I mean…
— The name suggests Irish extraction. Perhaps his forebears are north of Ireland?
— Perhaps we may ask Reverend Gilbert Sullivan to attend our Christmas supper tonight?
— Of course we may.
— Of course he may.
Hurraaaph!. . — Look out, or by God I'll split your skull. Shake the snow off before you come inside. Oh, good day, ladies. I didn't see you, ladies. Don't mind us, the dog and me. We've been outdoors, as you can see. We've been working, both very tired. Up the stairs, now! Up the stairs!
— Working, indeed.
— Indeed! — Indeed!
— Why I could smell him across the room.
— He wanted to sing at the supper tonight. One of his songs from the saloon.
— It is a disgrace to have him our sexton.
— It is a disgrace to have him living right here under the roof of the parsonage.
— But Reverend Gwyon. .
— Reverend Gwyon. .
— Reverend Gwyon always smells so fresh.
— Even his charity is stretched too far.
— Indeed it is. But I've been thinking. .
— I've been thinking, don't misunderstand me, the very same thing. After all, the sexton is getting older.
— The Lord will deliver him.
— The Lord will release him.
— The Lord will have pity on the poor man.
— Why, Reverend Gwyon.
— Reverend Gwyon. .
— We've come to ask you about our supper, the Christmas supper in the church tonight.
— Mrs. Dorman is going to sing. My sister is going to play the piano.
— And we've arranged for a visiting lecturer.
— A former Y.M.C.A. official. He is going to give a humorous talk.
— Nothing flighty. Nothing frivolous.
— Oh dear no, his talk will have some meat in it.
— I understand he has been in Africa. Not just traveling, wasting time. He was fully occupied with the Lord's work.
— And your guest will come.
— Yes, he is coming. We shall see both of you there tonight.
— Reverend Gwyon might like to hear our poem.
— Reverend Gilbert might like to hear our poem.
— Both of them might like to hear the poem we've written for the Christmas supper tonight.
— The last two verses. The rest will have to be a surprise!
So as members of the Use-Me So as members of the Use-Me So as members of the Use-Me
We hope to conquer all We hope to conquer all We hope to conquer all Offering the fellowship of Jesus Offering the fellowship of Jesus Offering the fellowship of Jesus
To those who need him most of all To those who need him most of all To those who need him most of all
For when we get to heaven For when we get to heaven For when we get to heaven
A reward there will be in store A reward there will be in store A reward there will be in store
For those whose daily living
' For those whose daily living
For those whose daily living
Has been "Use-Me evermore." Has been "Use-Me evermore." Has been "Use-Me evermore."
When they looked round, they were alone in the room. When they left, seeking their footprints, those were gone under the snow; and the prints of departure so quickly obliterated as to leave no witness that their visit had ever been made at all.
Though Reverend Gwyon, alone again in his study, found time to mutter, — There was a woman's grade in the Mysteries. Porphyry mentions it… hummn. . He turned up open books on his desk. — Hyena. That was it. Hyena.