This, however, I clearly saw: if I would possess the power of God in me, I must submit myself wholly and unreservedly to Him. He had made me a free agent, and I must allow Him to possess me wholly.
I will not describe what followed. It is too sacred a subject to parade. We cannot write on paper our deepest feelings; we cannot describe in words the yearnings and experiences of the soul. Were I to try I could give no adequate idea of my hopes and fears, my prayers and struggles. To realize my life, a similar condition must be experienced.
I ask, however, that I may be believed when I say this: a month later I really believed in God, and soon I began to realize His power. I felt a new life growing in me, a higher life. I began to be possessed of a power whereby I could conquer myself, subjugate my own will, and be master over my passions. The reader may smile as he or she reads this, but this is true: when I became possessed of a life whereby I became master of my lower self, I felt free from Voltaire’s power. I realized that to be master over myself meant being a slave to none.
I was free, and I knew it. A fuller, richer life surged within me, enabling me to rise above the occult forces of our physical and mental natures. Hope lived within me, and confidence as to the future began to inspire me.
BEGINNING TO SEARCH
No sooner did I begin to feel freed from Voltaire’s power than I began to exert myself to find Kaffar, if indeed he were to be found. There was much in my favour. I possessed freedom; I had plenty of money; I had plenty of time. On the other hand, there was much against me. Was he alive? Were Voltaire’s words true? Had I in my mesmeric condition yielded to his will in such a degree as to kill the wily Egyptian and hurl him in the pond? Again, if he were alive, where was he? Who could tell? Supposing he had gone to Egypt, how could I find him? Possibly he had a thousand haunts unknown to me.
I determined to go to Yorkshire, and soon found myself within the hospitable walls of Temple Hall. The house was very quiet, however for which I was very glad. I wanted to talk quietly with Tom; I wanted to investigate the whole matter.
When I had finished telling Tom my story, he seemed perfectly astounded.
“What, Justin!” he exclaimed, “do you mean to say that the villain used such means to get you out of his road and win Miss Forrest for himself?”
“I felt he was unscrupulous when I first met him,” I replied. “I am sure he guessed my secret, and determined to get me out of the way by fair means or by foul.”
We talked long concerning the matter; we tried to recall all that had been said and done; but, in spite of all, we could not hit upon any plan of action.
“Do you think she will marry Voltaire,” I said, after a short silence, “if I cannot find Kaffar or prove that he is alive?”