them I will say this: that beneath the
grotesque cloak of their worship seems to shine some spark of a holy
fire. Next come the gods of the Phoenicians, the fathers of a hideous
creed. After them the flame worshippers and other kindred religions of
the East. There remain the Jews, whose doctrine seems to me a savage
one; at least it involves bloodshed with the daily offering of blood.
Also they are divided, these Jews, for some are Pharisees, some
Sadducees, some Essenes. Lastly, there are you Christians, whose faith
is pure enough in theory, but whom all unite against in hate. What is
the worth of a belief in this crucified Preacher who promises that He
will raise those who trust in Him from the dead?"

"That you will find out when everything else has failed you," answered
Miriam.

"Yes, it is a religion for those whom everything else has failed. When
that chances to the rest of us we commit suicide and sink from sight."

"And we," she said proudly, "rise to life eternal."

"It may be so, lady, it may be so; but let us talk of something
more cheerful," and he sighed. "At present, I hold that nothing is
eternal--except perhaps such art as yours."

"Which will be forgotten in the first change of taste, or crumbled in
the first fire. But see, he is awake. Come here, my master, and work
this nostril, for it is beyond me."

The old artist advanced and looked at the bust with admiration.

"Maid Miriam," he said, "I used to have some skill in this art, and I
taught you its rudiments; but now, child, I am not fit to temper your
clay. Deal with the nostril as you will; I am but a hodman who bears the
bricks, you are the heaven-born architect. I will not meddle, I will not
meddle; yet perhaps----" and he made a suggestion.

"So?" said Miriam, touching the clay with her tool. "Oh, look! it is
right now. You are clever, my master."

"It was always right. I may be clever, but you have genius, and would
have found the fault without any help from me."

"Did I not say so?" broke in Marcus triumphantly.

"Sir," replied Miriam, "you say a great deal, and much of it, I think,
you do not mean. Please be silent; at this moment I wish to study your
lips, and not your words."

So the work went on. They did not always talk, for soon they found that
speech is not necessary to true companionship. Once Miriam began to
sing, and since she discovered that her voice pleased Marcus and soothed
the slumbers of the elders, she sang ofte