“O Balder,—­if I must kneel to you as to the last and greatest of all,—­if there is nothing too holy to be seen and touched,—­if there is no Presence too sublime for me to comprehend—­”

“What then?” asked he, meeting her troubled look with a strong, cheerful glance.

“Then the world is less beautiful than I thought it; the sun is less bright, and I am no more pleasing to myself.”  Tears began to flow down her noble cheeks; but Balder’s eyes grew brighter, seeing which, Gnulemah was encouraged to continue.

“How could I be happy? for either must I draw myself apart from you—­O Balder!—­or else live as your equal, and so degrade you; for I am not a goddess!”

“Then there are no goddesses on earth, nor gods!  Gnulemah, you need not shrink from me for that.”

The beautiful woman smiled through her sparkling eyelashes.  She could love and reverence the man who, as a deity, bewildered and disappointed her.  But was the intuition therefore false which had revealed to her the grand conception of a supreme, eternal God?

They sat silent for a while, and neither looked in the other’s face.  They had struck a sacred chord, and the sweet, powerful sound thrilled Balder no less than Gnulemah.  But presently he looked up; his cheeks warmed, and his heart swelled out.  He was about to put in jeopardy his most immediate jewel, and the very greatness of the risk gave him courage.  Not to the world, that could not judge him righteously, would he confess his crime,—­but to the woman he loved and who loved him.  Her verdict could not fail to be just and true.

Could a woman’s judgment of her lover be impartial?  Yes, if her instincts be pure and harmonious, and her worldly knowledge that of a child.  Her discrimination between right and wrong would be at once accurate and involuntary, like the test of poison.  Love for the criminal would but sharpen her intuition.  The sentence would not be spoken, but would be readable in eyes untainted alike by prejudice or sophistry.

Gnulemah was thus made the touchstone of Balder’s morality.  He stood ready to abide by her decision.  Her understanding of the case should first be made full; then, if condemned by her look, he would publish his crime to the world, and suffer its penalty.  But should her eyes absolve him, then was crime an illusion, evil but undeveloped good, the stain of blood a prejudice, and Cain no outcast, but the venerable forefather of true freedom.

Unsearchable is the heart of man.  Balder had looked forward to condemnation with a wholesome solemnity which cheered while it chastened him.  But the thought of acquittal, and at Gnulemah’s hands, appalled him.  The implicit consequences to humanity seemed more formidable than the worst which condemnation could bring upon himself.  So much had he lately changed his point of view, that only the fear of seeing his former creed confirmed could have now availed to stifle his confession.