urban and draped in quaint
garments, which to her who was familiar with all the guises of the
theater seemed to be Buddhistic. He looked neither to the right nor
left, but passed with a step infinitely soft and gliding across to the
arch, from which the terrified servant vanished instantly. The
stranger stayed only a dramatic instant on the threshold and then
disappeared into the corridor which led up into the Temple. When he
had gone the startled actress retained a picture of a face, fearless,
beatified, mystic to the very edge of the supernatural.

"Who was that?" she asked of the Gischalan, who was gazing at the
color of his wine, sitting in a shaft of sunlight.

"Seraiah! But more than that, no one knows. He appeared with the
slaying of Zechariah the Just. He haunts the garrisons. Hence his
name--Soldier of Jehovah!"

"He did not speak; why did he come?"

"He never speaks; he goes where he will; no one would dare to stop
him!"

Then suddenly realizing that he was showing disinterest the Gischalan
drew himself up and smiled.

"He is mad; I believe he is mad. The city is full of demoniacs."

"There is something great about him!" the woman declared. "He seems to
be the instrument of miracle."

"Is it that?" John asked in an amused tone.

She studied him for a moment that was tense with meaning.

"Do you know," she began slowly, "that neither you nor Simon, nor any
of these who aspire to the control of Jerusalem, have come upon the
plan which will best appeal to your distracted subjects?"

"Have we not?" he repeated. "We have bought them and bullied them; we
are fighting the Romans for them; we are preaching patience in the
will of the Lord. What more, lady?"

"What have you to offer them in their hope of a Messiah?" she said
pointedly.

"Messiah! What else is preached in the Temple but the Messiah, or in
the proseuchae or the streets or on the walls? We eat, drink, sleep,
fight, buy, sell, rob or restore in the name of the Messiah! They are
surfeited with religion."

"Are they?" she asked sententiously. "But you haven't given them a
Messiah."

He looked at her without comprehending.

"You have a mad city here; you can not reason with it; indulge it,
then, as you indulge your lunatics," she suggested.

He shook his head, smiling that he did not understand her. She turned
again to Seraiah.

"Watch him," she insisted. "He possesses me."

After a long silence in which John trifled with his wine, s