plateau, and from thence the two men walked on side by side, but for some
time without speaking till the senator asked: "How long now has your
father lived up on the mountain?"

"Many years," answered Hermas. "But I do not know how many--and it is
all one. No one enquires about time up here among us."

The senator stood still a moment and measured his companion with a
glance.

"You have been with your father ever since he came?" he asked.

"He never lets me out of his sight;" replied Hermas. "I have been only
twice into the oasis, even to go to the church."

"Then you have been to no school?"

"To what school should I go! My father has taught me to read the Gospels
and I could write, but I have nearly forgotten how. Of what use would it
be to me? We live like praying beasts."

Deep bitterness sounded in the last words, and Petrus could see into
the troubled spirit of his companion, overflowing as it was with weary
disgust, and he perceived how the active powers of youth revolted in
aversion against the slothful waste of life, to which he was condemned.
He was grieved for the boy, and he was not one of those who pass by those
in peril without helping them. Then he thought of his own sons, who had
grown up in the exercise and fulfilment of serious duties, and he owned
to himself that the fine young fellow by his side was in no way their
inferior, and needed nothing but to be guided aright. He thoughtfully