c of an Hebraic
hymn.

"So be it," he groaned.

The order was given, and a tear trickled down through the paint and
furrows of his cheek. On the hall a silence had descended. The guests were
waiting, and the throb of the harp accentuated the suspense. Presently
there was the clatter of men-at-arms, and a negro, naked to the waist,
appeared, an axe in one hand, the head of the prophet in the other.

He presented it deferentially to Antipas, who motioned it away, his face
averted. Salome smiled. She took it, and then, while she resumed her veil,
she put it down before the emir, who eyed it with the air of one that has
seen many another object such as that.

But in a moment the veil was adjusted, and with the trophy the girl
disappeared.

The harp meanwhile had ceased to sob, the guests were departing; already
the procurator had gone. The emir looked about for Mary, but she also had
departed; and, with the expectation, perhaps, of finding her without, he
too got up and left the hall.

Antipas was alone. Through the lattice at his side he could see the baaras
in the basalt emitting its firefly sparks of flame. From an adjacent
corridor came the discreet click-clack of a sandal, and in a moment the
head of the prophet was placed on the table at which he lay. The tetrarch
leaned over and gazed into the unclosed eyes. They were haggard and
dilated, and they seemed to curse.

He put his hand to his face and tried to think--to forget rather, and not
to remember; but his ears were charged with rustlings that extended
indefinitely and lost themselves in the future; his mind peopled itself
with phantoms of the past. Perhaps he dozed a little. When he looked up
again the head was no longer there, and he told himself that Herodias had
thrown it to the swine.

CHAPTER III.

III.

In the distance the white and yellow limestone of the mountains rose. Near
by was a laughter of flowers, a tumult of green. Just beyond, in a border
of sedge and rushes, a lake lay, a mirror to the sky. In the background
were the blue and white terraces of Magdala, and about a speaker were
clustered a handful of people, a group of laborers and of fishermen.

He was dressed as a rabbi, but he looked like a seer. In his face was the
youth of the world, in his eyes the infinite. As he spoke, his words
thrilled and his presence allured. "Repent," he was saying; "the kingdom