"But I think Mr. Cole is mad. Those

Visions he has --"

"As yet," said the Master, "he sees

Imperfectly. . . . through the Glass of his

own Carnal Nature. But the day will come

when he shall see Spiritually--Face to

Face."

378

Miss Camaby was abashed. Of course,

put like that— She rallied to make a

smaller protest.

"And really," she said, "need Lipscomb

be so abominably rude ?"

Again the Master gave his Heavenly

smile.

"Lipscomb," he said, "is a faithful

watch-dog. He is a crude—a primitive

soul — but faithful — utterly faithful."

He strode on. Miss Carnaby saw him

meet Mr. Cole, pause, put a hand on Mr.

Cole's shoulder. She hoped that the

Master's influence might alter the scope of

future visions.

In any case, it was only a week now to

the Autumn Festival.

VI

On the afternoon preceding the Festival,

Miss Carnaby met Hercule Poirot in a

small teashop in the sleepy little town of

Newton Woodbury. Miss Carnaby was

flushed and even more breathless than

usual. She sat sipping tea and crumbling a

rock bun between her fingers.

Poirot asked several questions to which

she replied monosyllabically.

379

Then he said:

"How many will there be at the Festival

?"

"I think a hundred and twenty. Emmeline

is there, of course, and Mr. Cole - really he has been very odd lately. He has visions. He described some of them to me

--really most peculiar --I hope, I do

hope, he is not insane. Then there will be

quite a lot of new members --nearly

twenty."

"Good. You know what you have to do ?"

There was a moment's pause before

Miss Carnaby said in a rather odd voice:

"I know what you told me, M.

Poirot. . . ."

"Tresbienr

Then Amy Carnaby said clearly and

distinctly:

"But I am not going to do it"

Hercule Poirot stared at her. Miss Carnaby

rose to her feet. Her voice came fast

and hysterical.

"You sent me here to spy on Dr.

Andersen. You suspected him of all sorts of

things. But he is a wonderful man--a

great Teacher. I believe in him heart and

soul! And I am not going to do your spying

380

work any more, M. Poirot! I am one of the

Sheep of the Shepherd. The Master has a

new message for the World and from now

on, I belong to him body and soul. And

I'll pay for my own tea, please."

With which slight anticlimax Miss Carnaby

planked down one and threepence

and rushed out of the teashop.

"Norn d'un nom d'un nom^ said Hercule

Poirot.

The waitress had to ask him twice before

he realised that she was presenting the bill.

He met the interested stare of a surly looking

man at the next table, flushed, paid the

check and got up and went out.

He was thinking furiously.

VII

Once again the Sheep were assembled in

the Great Fold. The Ritual Questions and