On the Way Back, Gabriel travelled to the city.

The streets were cold and windswept. The shops were shut after the bustle of ‘Shopmass,’ known to some as ‘Christmas,’ and the January sales.

The cinema seemed bright and modern when he saw the film: ‘The Way Back’ – of man’s inhumanity and will to be free – on the way home. Gabriel wandered round the Cathedral. Here it stood, floodlit against a great, black sky. Indomitable, unmoving for a thousand years. Pile upon pile of bright yellow masonry; great buttresses leaping upwards – statues staring down.

It was wondrous, still and dark. Children playing before the arc lights and their vast, ghostly shadows, flickered on the ancient stone. Where was the spire? One asked. Gone now for four hundred years, in an earthquake.

Now, in the midst of these modern times, stood this great symbol – her towers rearing up against the frigid January night a symbol of light, faith and hope.

Before, many times, he had paced around its base at Durham, his thoughts enlarged and lightened. And now, to his joy, the great bells chimed the hour. Nine times, the deep clang resounded, ringing out a message of continuity.

By its side Gabriel met an old man sheltering.

‘Who are you? What does this mean it is said john – ‘A voice crying in the wilderness.’