The old man, still pacing back and forth, ceased to speak aloud, and
began to mutter. The King seized this opportunity to state his case; and
he did it with an eloquence inspired by uneasiness and apprehension. But
the hermit went on muttering, and gave no heed. And still muttering, he
approached the King and said impressively--

"'Sh! I will tell you a secret!" He bent down to impart it, but checked
himself, and assumed a listening attitude. After a moment or two he went
on tiptoe to the window-opening, put his head out, and peered around in
the gloaming, then came tiptoeing back again, put his face close down to
the King's, and whispered--

"I am an archangel!"

The King started violently, and said to himself, "Would God I were with
the outlaws again; for lo, now am I the prisoner of a madman!" His
apprehensions were heightened, and they showed plainly in his face. In a
low excited voice the hermit continued--

"I see you feel my atmosphere! There's awe in your face! None may be in
this atmosphere and not be thus affected; for it is the very atmosphere
of heaven. I go thither and return, in the twinkling of an eye. I was
made an archangel on this very spot, it is five years ago, by angels sent
from heaven to confer that awful dignity. Their presence filled this
place with an intolerable brightness. And they knelt to me, King! yes,
they knelt to me! for I was greater than they. I have walked in the
courts of heaven, and held speech with the patriarchs. Touch my hand--be
not afraid--touch it. There--now thou hast touched a hand which has been
clasped by Abraham and Isaac and Jacob! For I have walked in the golden
courts; I have seen the Deity face to face!" He paused, to give this