abides, not even death can separate him
from his work until it is fulfilled, or at least in the way
of fulfilment. Take you that now as one reason for my belief;
then give me further attention."

The good man paused.

"Wilt thou not taste the wine? It is at thy hand--see," said Ilderim,
respectfully.

Balthasar drank, and, seeming refreshed, continued:

"The Savior I saw was born of woman, in nature like us, and subject
to all our ills--even death. Let that stand as the first proposition.
Consider next the work set apart to him. Was it not a performance for
which only a man is fitted?--a man wise, firm, discreet--a man, not a
child? To become such he had to grow as we grow. Bethink you now
of the dangers his life was subject to in the interval--the long
interval between childhood and maturity. The existing powers were
his enemies; Herod was his enemy; and what would Rome have been?
And as for Israel--that he should not be accepted by Israel was
the motive for cutting him off. See you now. What better way was
there to take care of his life in the helpless growing time than
by passing him into obscurity? Wherefore I say to myself, and to
my listening faith, which is never moved except by yearning of
love--I say he is not dead, but lost; and, his work remaining
undone, he will come again. There you have the reasons for my
belief. Are they not good?"

Ilderim's small Arab eyes were bright with understanding,
and Ben-Hur, lifted from his dejection, said heartily, "I,
at least, may not gainsay them. What further, pray?"

"Hast thou not enough, my son? Well," he began, in calmer tone,
"seeing that the reasons were good--more plainly, seeing it was
God's will that the Child should not be found--I settled my faith
into the keeping of patience, and took to waiting." He raised his
eyes, full of holy trust, and broke off abstractedly--"I am waiting
now. He lives, keeping well his mighty secret. What though I cannot
go to him, or name the hill or the vale of his abiding-place? He
lives--it may be as the fruit in blossom, it may be as the fruit
just ripening; but by the certainty there is in the promise and
reason of God, I know he lives."

A thrill of awe struck Ben-Hur--a thrill which was but the dying
of his half-formed doubt.

"Where thinkest thou he is?" he asked, in a low voice, and hesitating,
like one who feels upon his lips the pressure of a sacred silence.

Balthasar looked at him kindly, and replied, his mind