hich you have concern. And I do not need praying over."

"Have you no gods?" she asked him, shocked. He looked rather blank at
her attack.

"Why, no," he said, and his voice held a faint tinge of surprise. "There
are no gods in the bogs and fens and on the hills where I tended sheep.
What gods with any sense would live in such parts as these? And I knew
no need of them. Why should I have learned? When my mother would tell me
of one God whom she worshipped, I would go and play. Is this your God?"

"Ay," she answered, without hesitation. "I think your mother, too, was
Christian."

"Maybe," Nicanor answered with indifference. "But he is not the God of
the mighty--of none but slaves and bondsmen and the humble, from all
that hath been told to me."

"Of those who are oppressed," she said softly. "Wilt let me tell thee of
Him? Of how He was born in a stable, with wise men journeying from the
East, bearing gifts of homage?"

Nicanor looked at her with a gleam of quickening interest.

"Why, that is a tale," he said. "Now I have never heard of this before.
Why was he born in a stable, and what gifts did those wise men bring?"

Within the room the sounds had died, leaving a heavy silence, and
neither noticed. For of old Death young Life is ever heedless; ever the
brazen fanfare of life's trumpets drowns the thin reed-plaint of death.
In the passage their voices whispered guiltily.

"Because His mother went to a place which was called Bethlehem, with
Joseph her husband, to pay the taxes, and there was no room at the inn,"
said Eldris, explaining. "And the angel of the Lord had told Joseph that
these things should be, and that he need not put away Mary as he was
minded to do." She knew the facts of the story she would tell him; give
it form and coherence she could not.

"Who was Mary?"

"The wife of Joseph."

"Why put her away?"

"Because the Child was to be born."

Nicanor drew his heavy eyebrows to a scowl of intense perplexity.

"Now why should he put her away for doing what all good wives should
do?"

"Because her child was the Son of God, and at first Joseph did not--"

"And not the son of Joseph!" cut in Nicanor. His voice became all at
once enlightened. "Now by my head, this is a quaint tale thou tellest!
So the God you Christians worship was a--"

"Oh!" cried Eldris; and the shock in her voice cut his words short.
"Never say it! You do not understand! It was a miracle!"

"A miracle--well, that is dif