be
avoided; as if strength of temptation were excuse sufficient for
yielding to the temptation! Then the courtier spoke of the difference
between spiritual worship, the assent of the soul to a lofty creed, and
the mere outward posture of the body. The latter might bow down in the
house of Rimmon, Pollux argued, while the spirit retained its
allegiance to the only true God. Nay, the tempter quoted Scripture (as
the devil himself can quote it) to show that what God demands is the
heart, and that therefore He cares little for the homage of the knee.
The courtier tried to involve the artless girl in the meshes of his
false philosophy, but a woman's simple faith and love burst through
them all.

"Leave me--leave me!" cried Zarah passionately, at the first pause made
by Pollux; "it is sinful, cruel, to tempt me thus! You would have
tried to persuade the three children in Babylon to bow down to the
image of gold! I cannot argue, I cannot reason with one so learned as
you are, but I know that it is written in God's Law, _Thou shalt not
bow down nor worship_, and that is enough for me."

"But you never can endure the agonies which await you if you madly hold
out in your obstinate resistance!" cried Pollux.

"I know that I have no strength of my own; I know that I am a
trembling, feeble, cowardly girl, weak as water!" exclaimed Zarah,
bursting into tears; "but God--my God--once made a firm wall of water,
and He who sends the trial will send the strength to endure it!"

"Zarah, you will drive me to madness!" exclaimed Pollux, alarmed at the
constancy shown by so timid and fragile a being; "nay, turn not away, I
_will_ be heard! I command you to yield obedience to the king, and I
have a right to command; Zarah, he who speaks to you is--your father!"

Had not instinct suggested that before, had there not been something in
the voice, the face of the courtier of Epiphanes which had reminded
Zarah of Hadassah, and had strangely drawn the maiden's heart towards
him? Up sprang Abner's daughter with a cry, her arms were around his
neck, her head was pillowed on his bosom, his vest was wet with her
tears; she sobbed forth, "My father! my father!" forgetting for the
moment everything else in the delight of having found the lost one at
last, and of being locked in the embrace of a parent.

And Pollux, for a brief space, could think of nothing but the fact that
his child was clasped in his arms. He drew her close to his heart,