ndemned her," said Paulus with warmth, "for I
believed that she was guilty, just as you believe that I am, just as
every one that is bound by no ties of love is more ready to believe evil
than good, Now I know, aye, know for certain, that we did the poor woman
an injustice. If the splendor of the lovely dream, that you call Sirona,
has been clouded by my fault--"

"Clouded? And by you?" laughed Polykarp. "Can the toad that plunges into
the sea, cloud its shining blue, can the black bat that flits across the
night, cloud the pure light of the full-moon?"

An emotion of rage again shot through the anchorite's heart, but he was
by this time on his guard against himself, and he only said bitterly, and
with hardly-won composure:

"And how was it then with the flower, and with the bird, that were
destroyed by beasts without understanding? I fancy you meant no absent
third person by that beast, and yet now you declare that it is not within
my power even to throw a shadow over your day-star! You see you
contradict yourself in your anger, and the son of a wise man, who himself
has not long since left the school of rhetoric, should try to avoid that.
You might regard me with less hostility, for I will not offend you; nay,
I will repay your evil words with good--perhaps the very best indeed that
you ever heard in your life. Sirona is a worthy and innocent woman, and
at the time when Phoebicius came out to seek her, I had never even set
eyes upon her nor had my ears ever heard a word pass her lips."

At these words Polykarp's threatening manner changed, and feeling at once
incapable of understanding the matter, and anxious to believe, he eagerly
exclaimed:

"But yet the sheepskin was yours, and you let yourself be thrashed by
Phoebicius without defending yourself."

"So filthy an ape," said Paulus, imitating Polykarp's voice, "needs many
blows, and that day I could not venture to defend myself
because--because--But that is no concern of yours. You must subdue your
curiosity for a few days longer, and then it may easily happen that the
man whose very aspect makes you feel dirty--the bat, the toad--"

"Let that pass now," cried Polykarp. "Perhaps the excitement which the
sight of you stirred up in my bruised and wounded heart, led me to use
unseemly language. Now, indeed, I see that your matted hair sits round a
well featured countenance. Forgive my violent and unjust attack. I was
beside myself, and I opened my whole soul to