out his left arm to save his tottering balance; there was a crash, the
tree quivered under the blow, and Hermas shouted joyfully: "Wonderful!
wonderful! that was indeed a throw. The old Menander is not dead!
Farewell--to-morrow we will try again."

With these words Hermas quitted the anchorite, and hastened with wide
leaps down the hill in the oasis. Paulus started at the words like a
sleep-walker who is suddenly wakened by hearing his name called. He
looked about him in bewilderment, as if he had to find his way in some
strange world. Drops of sweat stood on his brow, and with sudden shame he
snatched up his garments that were lying on the ground, and covered his
naked limbs.

For some time he stood gazing after Hermas, then he clasped his brow in
deep anguish and large tears ran down upon his beard.

"What have I said?" he muttered to himself; "That every vein of the old
man in me was extirpated? Fool! vain madman that I am. They named me
Paulus, and I am in truth Saul, aye, and worse than Saul!"

With these words he threw himself on his knees, pressing his forehead
against the hard rock, and began to pray. He felt as if he had been flung
from a height on to spears and lances, as if his heart and soul were
bleeding, and while he remained there, dissolved in grief and prayer,
accusing and condemning himself, he felt not the burning of the sun as it
mounted in the sky, heeded not the flight of time, nor heard the approach
of a party of pilgrims, who, under the guidance of bishop Agapitus, were
visiting the Holy Places. The palmers saw him at prayer, heard his sobs,
and, marvelling at his piety, at a sign from their pastor they knelt down
behind him.

When Paulus at last arose, he perceived with surprise and alarm the
witnesses of his devotions, and approached Agapitus to kiss his robe. But
the bishop said: "Not so; he that is most pious is the greatest among us.
My friends, let us bow down before this saintly man!"

The pilgrims obeyed his command. Paulus hid his face in his hands and
sobbed out: "Wretch, wretch that I am!"

And the pilgrims lauded his humility, and followed their leader who left
the spot.

CHAPTER III.

Hermas had hastened onwards without delay. He had already reached the
last bend of the path he had followed down the ravine, and he saw at his
feet the long narrow valley and the gleaming waters of the stream, which
here fertilized the soil of the desert. He looked down on lofty palms