few seconds, she stood there before him, and he, upon the ground at her
feet, looked up at her, spellbound. Then, slowly she withdrew. Still
asleep, her eyelids closed, she turned from him, descending the slope.
She was gone.

Vanamee started up, coming, as it were, to himself, looking wildly about
him. Sarria was there.

"I saw her," said the priest. "It was Angele, the little girl, your
Angele's daughter. She is like her mother."

But Vanamee scarcely heard. He walked as if in a trance, pushing by
Sarria, going forth from the garden. Angele or Angele's daughter, it was
all one with him. It was She. Death was overcome. The grave vanquished.
Life, ever-renewed, alone existed. Time was naught; change was naught;
all things were immortal but evil; all things eternal but grief.

Suddenly, the dawn came; the east burned roseate toward the zenith.
Vanamee walked on, he knew not where. The dawn grew brighter. At length,
he paused upon the crest of a hill overlooking the ranchos, and cast his
eye below him to the southward. Then, suddenly flinging up his arms, he
uttered a great cry.

There it was. The Wheat! The Wheat! In the night it had come up. It was
there, everywhere, from margin to margin of the horizon. The earth, long
empty, teemed with green life. Once more the pendulum of the seasons
swung in its mighty arc, from death back to life. Life out of death,
eternity rising from out dissolution. There was the lesson. Angele was
not the symbol, but the PROOF of immortality. The seed dying, rotting
and corrupting in the earth; rising again in life unconquerable, and
in immaculate purity,--Angele dying as she gave birth to her little
daughter, life springing from her death,--the pure, unconquerable,
coming forth from the defiled. Why had he not had the knowledge of God?
Thou fool, that which thou sowest is not quickened except it die. So the
seed had died. So died Angele. And that which thou sowest, thou sowest
not that body that shall be, but bare grain. It may chance of wheat, or
of some other grain. The wheat called forth from out the darkness,
from out the grip of the earth, of the grave, from out corruption,
rose triumphant into light and life. So Angele, so life, so also the
resurrection of the dead. It is sown in corruption. It is raised in
incorruption. It is sown in dishonour. It is raised in glory. It is sown
in weakness. It is raised in power. Death was swallowed up in Victory.

The sun rose. The night was ov