The morning for Adoni's departure from the Orient had arrived. At an early hour he was seated in the garden with his host, who had been an attentive listener.

"Your dream, my son, was indeed very wonderful."

Adoni sighed. "Yes, I am sorry to think that it was only a dream."

Bashinar smiled. With a twinkle in his eye and enigmatical expression upon his face, he replied sweetly.

"Perhaps I can help you to define your dreams."

"You can?" asked Adoni eagerly.

"It is now one year since you entered the Hall of Learning. You have become a chosen disciple of the 'Great White Brotherhood.' Under the influence and psychic impression upon the medium of your material brain, prophetic visions have been unscrolled unto you. Mid shifting scenes, you have witnessed the worship and destruction of Mammon's temple. Out of the ruins of human destruction you have seen the resurrection of life. A new world, illumined with the smile of God. Step by step you have climbed to Heights Sublime. Listened to the song of angels unto the hearts of men. Have heard the voice of Deity, proclaiming man's dominion. In the garden of the soul beheld 'A Vision of Truth', a living proof of loves divine omnipotence. Your dream is but the promise of a glorious future. Your ideals the prophecy of what you shall one day unveil in a New Jerusalem. A Holy City - upon earth - there again I shall meet you. - My son - farewell."

It was a fast boat on which Adoni Bourd-alone made his return voyage. The journey proved pleasantly exhilarating, though uneventful, and was accomplished sooner than he had anticipated. During the passage over seas, Adoni formulated his course of action when he would reach New York. Instead of going directly to his mother's home, he determined to first visit the little mountain hamlet which had been his first charge, where Frances and he had begun their life together.

In his prophetic visions, under the old deodar trees, he had recognized its unmistakable landmarks in the environs of that beautiful "Dream City," the wooded hillside, the valley with its rapid flowing river, the desolate expanse of low marshlands, transformed in his dream to fertile fields; all despite their transfiguration, were familiar to him. At first his soul shrank from the undoubted meaning which the likeness implied, and his heart quailed at the thought that it was to be in the obscurity of that isolated region that his dream of happiness was to be realized. Yet the more seriously he reflected, the more he felt that the very remoteness of place and the poverty of its people possessed rare advantages for his purpose, which could not be found in a town where men were more liable to be swayed by greed for gain, and less inclined to lend themselves to the co-operative project which he had in view. Adoni wished to assure himself of the possibilities of the region and consult with its people, before he formed a definite plan for his future.

Upon landing in New York he found that the only train which stopped at the little hamlet did not leave until the following morning. As he was determined to visit the place of his first charge before leaving for his own home, he spent the afternoon looking about the city. After dining alone at the hotel, being weary of sightseeing, he went directly to his room and retired early, in order to take the train which left at an early morning hour.

For some unaccountable reason Adoni could not sleep; the bed was comfortable enough, but he continued to toss restlessly from side to side.

The dull roar of the seething sea of humanity below came to him through the open window, but disturbed him less than the thunder of the ocean. It was not the noise that rendered him sleepless. Adoni felt a strange tention of nerves, sensed an inward zeal for action. In vain he sought to relax the tension to induce a more reposeful mood. So complete was the dominion which he had gained over himself that usually the command, "Peace, peace," had been sufficient to tranquillize his spirit. Now, however, he repeated the command over and over again, without avail. At last in his troubled frame of mind he arose, flung himself into his lounging robe, and sought to compose himself by reading, but was unable to keep his thoughts upon the printed page. Thrusting it quickly aside, he began to analyze his feelings, but arrived at no conclusion, for suddenly the room became suffocating. Could it be that fire had broken out somewhere? Adoni opened the door and began to investigate in the corridors but detected no smell of smoke.

When again he re-entered his room an uncontrollable impulse seized him to leave it again and flee from the place - but whither, and for what purpose, he knew not. Could he have mistaken the time for the train to leave? Assuring himself that he had made no error he consulted the schedule. Swiftly his eyes travelled down the column - then became riveted upon the name of his home town - the letters seemed to glow upon, the page in startling distinctness, and boldly significant. The train would leave within an hour - an overwhelming desire to reach his mother's home seized him. - He tried to reason with himself that the idea was preposterous; to abandon his fixed plans was childish. Yet, while he argued with himself he was beginning involuntarily to make preparations for his immediate departure, and was in an incredible short time leaving the hotel. He hailed a taxi and was hurried to the station. And not until he boarded his home-bound train did the tension of his nerves begin to relax. While the feeling for immediate action subsided gradually, he became ill at ease every time the train halted, and counted the minutes with tense eagerness until it started again. When, to Adoni's great relief, it stopped at his destination, he swung himself lightly from the platform, entered the lunch room for a cold glass of lemonade, drank it feverishly, picked up his grip and in a few minutes was rapidly walking through the village streets and over lonely country roads.