ur redemption from what?"

"From sin, to be sure."

"What sin?"

"Why, our sin, of course--the sin of Adam which comes down to us."

"You say this Jesus purchased our redemption from that sin by dying?"

"Yes."

"From whom did he purchase it?"

"Oh, dear--this is like a catechism--from God, of course."

"The God that made Adam?"

"Certainly."

"Oh, yes--now I seem to remember him--he was supposed to make people, and
then curse them, wasn't he? And so he had to have his son killed before he
could forgive Adam for our sins?"

"No; before he could forgive _us_ for Adam's sin, which descended to us."

"Came down like an entail, eh? ... Adam couldn't disinherit us? Well, how
did this God have his son die?"

"Why, Bernal--you _must_ remember, dear--you knew so well--don't you know
he was crucified?"

"To be sure I do--how stupid! And was God _very_ cheerful after that? No
more trouble about Adam or anything?"

"You must hush--I can't tell you about these things--wait till your
grandfather comes."

"No, I want to have it from you, Nance--grandad would think I'd been
slighting the classics."

"Well, God takes to heaven with him those who believe."

"Believe what?"

"Who believe that Jesus was his only begotten son."

"What does he do with those who don't believe it?"

"They--they--Oh, I don't know--really, Bernal, I must go now."

"Just a minute, Nance!" He clutched more tightly the hand he had been
holding. "I see now! I must be remembering something I knew--something
that brought me down sick. If a man doesn't believe God was capable of
becoming so enraged with Adam that only the bloody death of his own son
would appease his anger toward _us_, he sends that man where--where the
worm doeth something or other--what is it? Oh, well!--of course, it's of
no importance--only it came to me it was something I ought to remember if
grandad should ask me about it. What a quaint belief it must have been."

"Oh, I must go!--let me, now."

"Don't you find it interesting, Nance, rummaging among these musty old
religions of a dead past--though I admit that this one is less pleasant to
study than most of the others. This god seems to lack the majesty and
beauty of the Greek and the integrity of the Norse gods. In fact, he was
too crude to be funny--by the way, what is it I seem to recall, about
eating the flesh and drinking the blood of the son?--'unless ye eat the
flesh of the son--'"

She drew her hand from