forgiven----"

Simon, Reulah, the others, muttered querulously. To forgive sins was
indeed an attribute which no one, save the Eternal, could arrogate to
himself.

"--for she has loved much."

And turning again to Mary, who still crouched at his side, he added:

"Your sins are forgiven. Go now, and in peace."

But the fierce surprise of the Pharisees was not to be shocked into
silence. Reulah showed his teeth; they were pointed and treacherous as a
jackal's. Simon loudly asserted disapproval and wonder too.

"I am amazed----" he began.

The Master checked him:

"The beginning of truth is amazement. Wonder, then, at what you see; for
he that wonders shall reign, and he that reigns shall rest."

The music of his voice heightened the beauty of the speech. On Mary it
fell and rested as had the touch of his hand.

"Messiah, my Lord!" she cried. "In your breast is the future, in your
heart the confidence of God. Let me but tell you. There are those that
live whose lives are passed; the tombs do not hold all of those that are
dead. I was dead; you brought me to life. I had no conscience; you gave me
one, for I was dead," she insisted. "And yet," she added, with a little
moan, so human, so sincere, that it might have stirred a Caesar, let alone
a Christ, "not wholly dead. No, no, dear Lord, not wholly dead."

Again her tears gushed forth, profuser and more abundant than before; her
frail body shook with sobs, her fingers intertwined.

"Not wholly dead," she kept repeating. "No, no, not wholly dead."

Jesus touched his treasurer.

"She is not herself. Lead her away; see her to her home." And that the
others might hear, and profit as well, he added, in a higher key,
"Deference to a woman is always due."

And to those words, which were to found chivalry and banish the boor,
Judas led Mary from the room.

CHAPTER VI.

VI.

"Are you better?"

The road that skirted the lake had branched to the left, and there an easy
ascent led to the hill beyond. On both sides were carpets of flowers and
of green, and slender larches that held their arms and hid the sky. Above,
an eagle circled, and on the lake a sail flapped idly.

"Yes, I am better," Mary answered.

From her eyes the perils had passed, but the splendors remained,
accentuated now by vistas visible only to herself. The antimony, too, with
which she darkened them had gone, and with