k of a tragedy in a strange country, and we in this
garden on the second moon of spring. And it was so very long ago. Do
you hear the bees, Marco Polo--the bees among the almond-blossoms? And
see the blue heron by the lotus flowers? And do you see the little
tortoise, Marco Polo, and he sunning himself on a leaf? If I throw a
pebble, Marco Polo, he will dive, and he is such a clumsy diver, Marco
Polo!"

"But you must listen, Golden Bells, and believe me."

"I do believe, Marco Polo; I honestly do. Don't you know I believe
you? Anything you say, Marco Polo, I believe. You wouldn't be coming
all the way over the world to be telling me a lie. Of course I
believe."

"And doesn't it make you happy, Golden Bells?"

"Once I was unhappy, Marco Polo. I used sit here, and on my lute I
used play the 'Song of the Willow Branches,' which is the saddest song
in the world. Under the moon I used be lonely, and the droning of the
bees meant nothing to me, and now it is a sweet brave song. I cannot
play 'Willow Branches' any more, so alien is sadness to me. And the
moon smiles. I am very happy, Marco Polo."

"It is the True Religion, little Golden Bells, that makes you happy."

"Is it, Marco Polo? Is it? It must be, I suppose. I don't know what
it is, but I am very happy."

CHAPTER XVIII

And he told her of Paul, who had seen a vision and gone preaching
through, the world, who was persecuted, who was shipwrecked, who was
bitten by a viper, and who survived everything that he might preach the
Lord Jesus. He was a fierce, ragged man with burning eyes... And he
told her of Paul's instructions to women...

"You do not look at me when you speak, Marco Polo. Only your voice
comes to me, not your eyes. Is it because of Paul?"

And Marco Polo felt great trouble on him, because he could not explain.
But Golden Bells went on:

"There is little in your faith about women, Marco Polo. Is it a faith
only for men, then? Is it against women? Must the young men not look
at the young women?"

"No, Golden Bells; the young men must not look too much on the young
women."

"But that is very foolish, Marco Polo. Is it wrong to see the beauty
of the almond blossoms, wrong to taste the scented wind? Is it wrong to
watch the kingfisher seeking his nest? Is it wrong to watch the moon,
the stars? All these are very beautiful, Marco Polo, so beautiful as
to make me cry. Is it wrong to watch them?"

"It is not wrong, Gol