et, Doucebelle, not a priest. Nay, He knows, the Holy
One, that we want a priest most bitterly; that we have no sacrifice
wherewith to stand before Him,--no blood to make atonement. But we want
the prophet to point us to the priest. Let us know, by revelation from
Heaven, that this man, or that man, is the accepted Priest of the Most
High, and trust us to bring our fairest lambs in sacrifice."

"Belasez, I believe that the Lamb was offered, twelve hundred years ago,
and the sacrifice which alone God will accept for the sins of men is
over for ever, and is of everlasting efficacy."

"I know." Belasez's face was more troubled than before.

"If thou canst not trust His priests, couldst thou not trust Him?"

"Trust whom?" exclaimed Belasez, with her eyes on fire. "O Doucebelle,
Doucebelle, I know not how to bear it! I thought I was so strong to
stand up against all falsehood and error,--and here, one man, with one
word,--Let me hold my peace. But O that Thou wouldst rend the heavens,
that Thou wouldst come down! Hast Thou but one blessing, O Thou that
art a Father unto Israel? Or are we so much worse off than our fathers
in the desert? Nay, are we not in the desert, with no leader to guide
us, no fiery pillar to bid us rest here, or journey thither? Why hast
Thou given the dearly-beloved of Thy soul into the hands of her enemies?
Is it--is it, because we hid our faces--from Him!"

And to Doucebelle's astonishment, Belasez covered her face with her
apron, and sobbed almost as if her heart were breaking.

"Poor Belasez!" said Doucebelle, gently. "It is often better to tell
out what troubles us, than to keep it to ourselves."

"If thou wert a daughter of Israel, I should tell it thee, and ask thy
counsel. I need some one's counsel sorely."

"And canst thou not trust me, Christian though I am?"

"Oh no, it is not that. Thou dost not understand, Doucebelle. Thou
couldst not enter into my difficulty unless thou wert of my faith. That
is the reason. It is not indeed that I mistrust thee."

"Hast thou told thy father?"

"My father? No! He would be as much horrified to hear that such
thoughts had ever entered my head, as the Lady would be if thou wert to
tell her thou didst not believe any longer in thy Christ."

"Then what canst thou do? Could thy mother help thee, or thy brother?"

"My mother would command me to dismiss such ideas from my mind, on pain
of her curse. But I cannot dismiss them. And