The Mark of the Beast | Page 8

will necessarily be a Jew, for otherwise, the Jews (who will have
largely returned to their own land, and will have built their Temple, and
resumed their Mosaic service,) would not accept him as their leader,
and make their seven years' covenant with him.
"Now, beloved, my last word is a very solemn one. It is this, our Lord's
Return for His Bride, the Church, is very near,--'He is even at our
doors.' Any day, any hour he may return. We, here, may never reach
the point of the 'Benediction' at the arranged close of this service, for
Jesus may come and call up to Himself everyone of His own in this
place. Then what of you here who are not His? For you, there will
remain nothing but the horrors of the Tribulation, (should you seek and
find God after the Translation of the church.)
"Will you be among the Martyrs of the Tribulation, or of the final
impenitent, rebels who shall be cast into the Hell reserved for the Devil,
for Anti-christ, for the demons; or, blessed thought, will you here and
now yield to Christ, and become the saved of the Lord?"
Amid the most intense hush, he added: "Somewhere, even as I have
preached of him, and as you have listened, there is, I believe, a young
man, of noble stature, exceedingly attractive, wealthy,
fascinating,--bewitching, in fact, since 'all the world will wonder after
him'--yes, somewhere in the world, perhaps in this very city where we
are now gathered, is the young man who, presently, when our Lord has
come, when the Church, and the Holy Spirit are gone, will manifest
himself as the Anti-christ. May God save everyone of us from his reign,
for Jesus Christ's sake. Amen!"
A gasping cry of amazed wonder broke from the thousand or more
throats. They bowed, as one man, under the silent request of his spread
hands, they heard the old, old "Benediction" as they had never heard it

before: "May the Grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Love of God, and
the Fellowship of the Holy Spirit, all unite in leading us into the Peace
of God which passeth all understanding, Amen."
Silent, awed, in many cases speechless, the great congregation passed
out of the several exits of the church. Among them was the woman we
know as Judith Montmarte, and her son.
In spite of their pre-occupation, many of the outgoing congregation
turned to gaze with wondering eyes upon the handsome young fellow
who walked with such a regal air beside his mother, Judith Montmarte.
Like Saul, in Israel, he stood a head and shoulders above the tallest of
the crowd. And he was magnificently proportioned.
On the continent, and in New York and Chicago, Lucien Apleon, was
well-known, but only in certain of the English circles was he known.
Those who knew him, whether men or women, fairly idolized him, in
spite of the impenetrable mystery that enveloped his birth.
For a full year Judith Montmarte had disappeared from the ken of the
world. Where she went, what she did, what happened to her, none ever
knew.
On her re-appearance in her Hungarian home, she called herself
Madame Apleon, and her child was Lucien Apleon. No one ever heard
of a husband, no one knew the history of that year of disappearance.
Lucien Apleon was now about twenty-five years of age, but with the
maturity of face and character of a much older man. He was accounted,
by all who knew him, to be the most accomplished man in everything,
that the world had ever known. The greatest scientists were babes
before him. As artist, sculptor, poet, musician, he could not be
approached by any living being. And there appeared an almost creative
power in all he did, since works of every kind of art grew under his
hand.
Among those who had been in that service, and who turned to look at
Lucien Apleon, was Ralph Bastin. It was his last day in London,

previous to those years of wandering recorded in "The Twinkling of an
Eye."
Often during those years of adventurous wanderings the memory of
Ralph Bastin had recalled that wonderful service. One special moment
of its recall was during that fateful, sacrificial cave scene in that
Carribean Island.
CHAPTER II.
A "SUPER-MAN."
London was still in its first throes of wonder, speculation, and, in some
cases, fearsome dread, at the ever increasing discovery that a number of
its citizens had mysteriously disappeared.
"And the most curious part of the whole affair," a prominent London
philanthropist had remarked to an informal gathering of the Committee
of one of the Great Societies, "is this, that whether we look at the gaps
in our own committee, or of any other committee, or of any church--as