"
"The promise to Abraham?"
"Yes! Have not Christians, Jews, and Muhammedans a share in the
promise?"
"Christians of Abraham's seed?"
"Through Christ, who was of Judah, we are spiritually Abraham's
seed. One faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all!"
"I have listened to you, and must say that your faith is great, and
has delivered you."
"As it will deliver mankind."
The conversation now ceased, for the alarm-bell began to ring in the
south tower. The sound of it overpowered the din of the storm, and
filled the room with its vibrations, made the table and chairs
shake, and both men tremble. The old man tried to speak, but his
guest heard nothing, and only saw his lips move. Then the old man
rose and pointed to one of the many engravings.
It represented Anacharsis Clootz, the philanthropist and philosopher,
in a convent, with a crowd of people from all corners of the
earth--black, yellow, white, copper-coloured--seeking to have them
admitted as citizens into the world-republic. The Count smiled
in answer half-distrustfully, half-tolerantly. The old man tried to
speak, but could not be heard. The boom of the bell seemed to come
from the depths of ages, ringing out the past century and ringing in
the new, which would commence in a few weeks--the nineteenth century
since the birth of the Redeemer, who has promised to return, and
perhaps will do so in one way or another.
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