Then all the tangle of pain seemed to be lifted out of him. A cool
languor of delight flowed back through every vein, and he sank into
a profound sleep.






III

PARTING, BUT NO FAREWELL





THERE is a slumber so deep that it annihilates time. It is like a
fragment of eternity. Beneath its enchantment of vacancy, a day
seems like a thousand years, and a thousand years might well pass as
one day.

It was such a sleep that fell upon Hermas in the Grove of Daphne. An
immeasurable period, an interval of life so blank and empty that he
could not tell whether it was long or short, had passed over him
when his senses began to stir again. The setting sun was shooting
arrows of gold under the glossy laurel-leaves. He rose and stretched
his arms, grasping a smooth branch above him and shaking it, to make
sure that he was alive. Then he hurried back toward Antioch,