P.
"Dost thou spread the sail, throw the spear, swing the axe, lay
thy hand upon the plough, attend the furnace door, shepherd the
sheep upon the hills, gather corn from the field, or smite the
rock in the quarry? Yet, whatever thy task, thou art even as
one who twists the thread and throws the shuttle, weaving the
web of Life. Ye are all weavers, and Allah the Merciful, does
He not watch beside the loom?"
BOOK I
CHAPTER I
AS THE SPIRIT MOVED
The village lay in a valley which had been the bed of a great river in
the far-off days when Ireland, Wales and Brittany were joined together
and the Thames flowed into the Seine. The place had never known turmoil
or stir. For generations it had lived serenely.
Three buildings in the village stood out insistently, more by the
authority of their appearance and position than by their size. One was a
square, red-brick mansion in the centre of the village, surrounded by a
high, redbrick wall enclosing a garden. Another was a big, low, graceful
building with wings.
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