certain in this way to provoke him thereby into confidences.  They had not proceeded far into the wood before they came upon Jesus in front of a heap of dead leaves that he had raked together.  A great many had fallen, he said, and the place was beginning to look untidy, so I thought I would gather them for burning.  Thou must not tire thyself, Joseph answered, as he passed on with Esora, asking her as they went through the autumn woods if Jesus found the rake for himself or if she gave it to him.  He asked me if he might be allowed to feed the chickens, she said, and I would have let him if Matred’s window did not overlook the yard.  Master, the hope of getting him out of Judea rests upon the chance that he may recover his mind, and staring at the desert all day won’t help him.  He musn’t brood, and as there is no work like raking up leaves to keep a man’s thought off himself, unless, indeed, it be digging, I thought I had better let him have the rake.  But if Matred should meet him?  Joseph asked.  She will see the new gardener in him, that will be all.  I told her last night, Esora continued, that we were expecting the new gardener, and she said it would be pleasant to have a man about the house again.  But he musn’t attempt any hard work like digging yet awhile; he has done enough to-day; I’ll go and tell him to put away the rake and pass on to his supper.  She waited for Joseph to answer, but he was in no humour for speech, and she left him looking at the hills.

A cloud lifts, and we are; another cloud descends, and we are not; so much do we know, but we are without sufficient sight to discover the reason behind all this shaping and reshaping, for like all else we ourselves are changing as Heraclitus said many years ago.

And while thinking of this philosopher, whose wisdom he felt to be more satisfying than any other, he paced back and forth, seeking a little while longer to untie the knot that all men seek to untie, abandoning at last, saying:  fate tied it securely before the beginning of history, and on these words he ran up the steps of his house, pausing on the threshold to listen, for he could distinguish Esora’s voice, and Matred’s; afterwards he heard Jesus’ voice, and he said:  Jesus eats with my servants in the kitchen!  This cannot be, and he very nearly obeyed the impulse of the moment, which was to call Jesus and tell him to come and eat his supper with him.  To do this, however, would draw Matred’s attention to the fact that Jesus was not of her company but of her master’s, and distinctions between servants and master, he continued, are not for him, who thinks in eternal terms.

He sat at table, his thoughts suspended, but awakening suddenly from a reverie, of which he remembered nothing, he rose from his seat and went to the kitchen door, regretting that he was not with Jesus, for to miss his words, however slight they might be, seemed to him to be a loss that could not be repaired.  They are listening to him, he said, with the same pleasure that I used to do, watching his eyes lighting his words on their way.