ice, my faith teaches me that revenge must be left to God, and
that only forgiveness is for the lips of men. I, a sinner as thou art,
must have nothing to do with vengeance. But, O Licorice, by all that
thou deemest dear and holy, by the love that thou bearest to that babe
of thine in the cradle, I conjure thee to tell me what has become of my
child. Is she yet living?' She paused a while. Then she said in a low
voice, `No, Bruno. The journey was too much, in such a season, for so
young an infant. She died the day after we arrived here. Perhaps,'
said Licorice, `thou wilt not believe me; but I am sorry that the child
is dead. I meant to bring her up a strict Jewess, and to wed her to
some Jew. That would have been sweet to me. She and my Belasez would
have grown together like twin sisters, for they were almost exactly of
an age.' I could not refuse credence, for her look and tone were those
of truth. It explained, too, if Beatrice had died so soon after
arrival, why the child Rosia had not heard of her. So then I knew,
Belasez, that the life to which my God called me thenceforward was to be
a lonely walk with Him, sweetened by no human love any more, only by the
dear hope that Heaven would hold us all, and that when we met in the
Golden City we should part no more."

Tears were dimming Belasez's eyes. Bruno turned to Abraham.

"Now, my father, I have done thy will. But suffer me to say that it is
no slight perplexity to me, why thou hast thought it meet that this
sorrowful story should be told to the child of her that did the wrong."

Abraham made no answer but to rise from the position in which he had
been sitting all the time, and to walk straight to the window. He
seemed unwilling to speak, and his companions looked at him in doubtful
surprise. They had to wait, however, till he turned from the window,
and came and stood before Bruno.

"Son," he said, "what saith thy faith to this question?--When a man hath
taken the wrong road, and hath wandered far away from right, from truth,
and God, is it ever too late, while life lasts, for him to turn and come
back?"

"Never," was Bruno's answer.

"And is it, under any circumstances, lawful for a man to lie unto his
neighbour?"

Bruno, like many another, was better than his system; and at that time
the Church herself had not reached those depths of legalised iniquity
wherein she afterwards plunged. So that he had no hesitation in
repeating, "Never."