It was getting late in the morning. The sun had risen higher and flooded the level wastes of snow without. The little party finished their meal in silence.
In the chapel Wilson knelt on the chancel step, praying that help and light might come to men and the imminent darkness pass away.
The Prime Minister was a man deeply interested in all philosophic thought, and especially in the Christian system of philosophy. He had written two most important books, weighty, brilliant contributions to the mass of thought by which his school laboured to make theism increasingly credible to the modern mind.
He had proved that science, ethics, and theology are all open to the same kind of metaphysical difficulties, and that, therefore, to reject theology in the name of science was impossible. It was fortunate that, at this juncture, such a one should be at the head of affairs.
The vast network of cables and telegraph wires, those tentacles which may be called the nerves of the world's brain, throbbed unceasingly after the tremendous announcement for which Ommaney had undertaken the responsibility.
A battalion of special correspondents from every European and American paper of importance followed hot upon Harold Spence's trail.
Nevertheless, for the first two or three days the world at large hardly realised the importance of what was happening. Nothing was certain. The whole statement depended upon two men. To the mass of people these two names--Hands, Schmöulder--conveyed no meaning whatever. Nine tenths of the population of England knew nothing of the work of archæologists in Palestine, had never even heard of the Exploring Society.
Had Consols fallen a point or two the effect would have been far greater, the fact would have made more stir.
The great dailies of equal standing with the _Wire_ were making every private preparation for a supply of news and a consensus of opinion. But all this activity went on behind the scenes, and nothing of it was yet allowed to transpire generally. The article in the _Wire_ was quoted from, but opinions upon it were printed with the greatest caution and reserve. Indeed, the general apathy of England at large was a source of extreme wonder to the unthinking, fearing minority.