ferent," said Nicanor. "I have told tales
of miracles, for such things may be. And so--?"

"For it had been foretold that One should be born, of a pure virgin, who
should redeem the world and take upon Himself the sins and sorrows of
all men. So an angel told Mary that she was blessed among women--but I
think that she was frightened."

Nicanor nodded, as one in entire understanding. In place of the hard
glitter of his eyes had come a certain luminosity as though from inner
fires, an odd deep shining; his face was keen with a lively interest.

"And so--what happened then?" he questioned her, even as men, so many
times before, had questioned him.

"Yet she was glad, for that she was chosen to bring peace into the
world," recounted Eldris. "So they went into Bethlehem, and all the inns
were full. But Mary could go no farther, and they went into a stable,
where oxen and cattle were stalled. And there the Child was born; and
men say that a great star in the sky guided shepherds who fed their
flocks upon the moors to that stable where He lay. And it is told that
three Kings came out of the East, laden with perfumes and gifts for him
who was to be the Saviour of the world."

"Kings," Nicanor repeated, musing. "Then would they be clothed bravely,
with jewels and fine linen, and this would make good contrast with the
stable. Go on. What did they when they came into the stable?"

"They marvelled greatly that He whom they had journeyed to seek should
be but a new-born babe, and they bowed down and worshipped."

"Paid homage," said Nicanor, following out his own train of thought.
"Ay, it is a good tale, but as I have heard it, it lacketh
something--what? I must think of that. It hath no point, no pivot on
which to hang the whole. For, look you, a tale is built as any other
thing is built; it must have its parts balanced; it must have cause, and
meaning, and effect. This hath a beginning, but it leads nowhere,
without end."

"But it hath no end," said Eldris, not understanding. "And it can have
no end until the end of time. For it was but the beginning; and the
little Jesus that lay in the manger is He who liveth and reigneth above
all gods--"

"Now I care not for the little Jesus!" said Nicanor, gruff with
impatience. "It is the tale I would get at--the tale! Well, it will
come, as always it hath come before. On a night I will wake to find it
full-grown in my head and clamoring at my tongue. Now we will go, or
that fat l