of heaven is at hand." And as the resplendent prophecy continued, you
would have said that a bird in his heart had burst into song.

A little to one side, in an attitude of amused contempt, a few of the
tetrarch's courtiers stood; they were dressed in the Roman fashion, and
one, Pandera, a captain of the guard, wore a cuirass that glittered as he
laughed. He was young and very handsome. He had white teeth, red lips, a
fair skin, a dark beard, and, as he happened to be stationed in the
provinces, an acquired sneer. Dear old Rome, how vague it was! And as he
jested with his comrades he thought of its delights, and wished himself
either back again in the haunts he loved, or else, if he must be separated
from them, then, instead of vegetating in a tiresome tetrarchy, he felt
that it would be pleasant to be far off somewhere, where the uncouth
Britons were, a land which it took a year of adventures to reach; on the
banks of the Betis, whence the girls came that charmed the lupanars; in
Numidia, where the hunting was good; or in Thrace, where there was blood
in plenty--anywhere, in fact, save on the borders of the beautiful lake
where he happened to be.

It was but the restlessness of youth, perhaps, that disturbed him so, for
in Galilee there were oafs as awkward as any that Britannia could show;
there was game in abundance; blood, too, was not as infrequent as it might
have been; and as for women, there at his side stood one as appetizing as
Rome, Spain even, had produced. He turned to her now, and plucked at his
dark beard and showed his white teeth; he had caught a phrase of the rabbi
in which the latter had mentioned the kingdoms of the earth, and the
phrase amused him.

"I like that," he said. "What does he know about the kingdoms of the
earth? Mary, I wager what you will that he has never been two leagues from
where he stands. Let's ask and see."

But Mary did not seem to hear. She was engrossed in the rabbi, and Pandera
had to tug at her sleeve before she consented to return to a life in which
he seemingly had a part.

"What do you say?" he asked.

Mary shook her head. She had the air of one whose mind is elsewhere. Into
her face a vacancy had come; she seemed incapable of reply; and as the
guardsman scrutinized her it occurred to him that she might be on the
point of having an attack of that catalepsy to which he knew her to be
subject. But immediately she reassured him.

"Come, let us go."

And, the guard