Almon was then beckoned to stillness; and he seated himself at a little distance, and looked on with astonishment. Serenus gently took the hands of Saulus in his own, and seating himself, rested his calm gaze upon the pale face before him.
The room was filled with a mysterious stillness, and there was a feeling as of a Presence. To Almon there seemed to be an added surrounding brightness, and he was filled with a holy awe which he could not understand. Then he thought he heard the stranger whisper a benediction. Soon Saulus wearily opened his eyes and looked about him, but failed to recognize his surroundings. There was another profound silence, and another benediction in soft but now audible tones.
Then the sick man gaped twice, turned upon his side, and sank into a sweet, natural slumber. Soon his deep, regular breathing indicated sound and refreshing sleep. Almon marvelled. Serenus arose to take his departure, only saying,—
“He is well.”
“What a wonderful work! Who art thou, kind stranger?”
He only replied, “A friend of Saulus,” and softly passing through the portal went out into the darkness.
CHAPTER XV
THE RESCUE OF REBECCA
Let the children of Zion be joyful in their King. Let them praise his name in the dance.
Let them sing praises unto him with the timbrel and harp.
Psalm cxlix.
It was but two days to the great Jewish festival of Pentecost, and Jerusalem was already thronged with pilgrims. They came pouring in through all the great thoroughfares,—from Damascus to the northward, which entered near Golgotha; from the seaports to the west and northwest, through the defiles of the hill-country of Mount Ephraim, and from the south, approaching through the valley of Kedron; also along the lesser byways—a great host. They journeyed in families, parties, and festal bands, singing songs and praises, and bringing offerings. The air was stirred with a thrill of national pride and exaltation. Even the great overshadowing cloud of the Roman dominion could not dampen the ardor nor repress the spirit of the harvest festival commonly known as the Feast of Weeks.
The Hebrew had an unbounded faith in the future and permanent redemption of the Lord’s people, and his ideal of restoration and final triumph was ever before him. However galling the shackles, their loosening had been decreed, and was expected. Even the pilgrims of the more distant countries of the Dispersion were in no wise behind in their ardor as they gathered at the sacred city, “whither the tribes go up.” Each loyal heart swelled with pride as the great Temple came into view, where the God of Israel found his special dwelling-place in the Holy of Holies, from which he radiated his glory.
During the great Hebrew festivals every son of Israel who lived in the Holy City hospitably opened his house to the pilgrims; and as the climate was warm during the month Sivan, thousands slept upon roofs, and also encamped in and around the city. Many pitched tents within the limits of a “Sabbath day’s journey” outside the walls.
Among the great throng was a little party of four from the distant seaport of Tarsus. The aged priest Abdiel, with Benoni and his wife and Rebecca, came not only to attend the festival, but for a longer sojourn. Their arrival was a few days later than that of Saulus, he having been charged to make provision for their necessities. They were to abide at the Sheepmarket.
The little Tarsian group approached by the road from Cæsarea, and coming upon the elevation beyond the walls to the northwest, beheld the City of David spread out before them. The roof of the Temple, which crowned Moriah, overlaid with beaten gold, glittered in the warm Judean sunshine; and as the eyes of Abdiel rested upon it, he fell on his knees, and stretched out his hands toward heaven.
“The God of Israel be praised! Long aforetime the eyes of thy servant rested upon thy Holy Hill, and now, once more, behold the Glory of the Whole Earth is spread before me.”
He then arose, and looking up to heaven, repeated from the Psalms of David,—
“In Salem also is his tabernacle,
And his dwelling-place in Zion.
My covenant will I not break,
Nor alter the thing that is gone out of my lips.
Once have I sworn by my holiness;
I will not lie unto David;
His seed shall endure forever,
And his throne as the sun before me.”
He ceased, and again fastened his gaze upon the Holy Hill. But anon a tremor shook his frame, his eyes became fixed, and he was as one in a deep trance. His countenance changed, his lips seemed moved by some mysterious power, and a message which was like a prophecy came out of his mouth. Even the voice was not that of Abdiel.
“Behold, little ones are born already whose eyes shall see Jerusalem as a heap of ruins. Sons of Israel will arise against each other, and strife and famine among thy people ravage thee within, while Roman cohorts invest thee from without. Battering rams will cause thy bulwarks to crumble; thy palaces shall be sacked, thy towers crushed, and thy Temple destroyed by fire. Pestilence, famine, and war shall bring thee to utter desolation, until thou lie in heaps. Thy glory shall vanish, thy name become a reproach and a hissing, and the Gentiles shall level thy ruins and dwell upon them.”
Again the frame of Abdiel was shaken, and he came to himself.
“Behold, O Benoni, I have seen an exceeding calamitous vision!”
“O Rabbi Abdiel! we have heard thee prophesy evil concerning the Holy City!”
“I wot not that I had spoken; but oh, the vision! Here where Jerusalem lieth stretched out before me, lo! I beheld a mighty battle. Famine, sword, and fire prevailed, and then anon I saw but an ash-heap!”
“Behold, O Rabbi Abdiel, peradventure a lying spirit hath possessed thee, and used thy lips!”
The venerable priest marvelled.
The day of the great and most joyous of the Jewish festivals opened bright but sultry. The early morning sun was pouring his warm beams over Mount Olivet, and gilding tower and roof, as Serenus wended his way toward a large upper chamber which was just below the westerly slope of the Holy Hill. This was where the disciples of the prophet of Nazareth were wont to gather, day by day, before the third hour. It was his first visit, and he was unknown to the followers of the Nazarene. From his youth in Alexandria, where he had been instructed by the great teacher Philo, he had been free in spirit from the traditions of the elders. He had learned somewhat of the Greek philosophy, and also dwelt for a season among the devoted Jewish sects of the Essenes and Therapeutæ. Being of a singularly pure and religious nature, he found the best in each, and attained to much wisdom and discernment, even before he came to Jerusalem. While a Jew by birth, and yet an observer of the more simple forms of the Hebrew worship, he had gradually found them burdensome, until his free declarations concerning the Spirit of Truth made it expedient even for the tolerant Gamaliel to part with him. He had long accounted the kingdom of God as a spiritual kingdom, having no connection with the government of the Jewish nation. He felt that its seat was within, and that its coming would be without observation.
Serenus had lived the Sermon on the Mount before its audible delivery. During the public life and ministry of Jesus of Nazareth, he had continued with Gamaliel, but had watched intently the spirit and teaching of the newly arisen prophet. While not aforetime casting in his lot with his immediate followers, he was in perfect accord with his work and mission. Day by day he had lived in the hope that the sonship which had expression in the great prophet might find knowledge and favor of the Rabbis and all the people. His own life and teaching with Gamaliel were to the end of the hastening of peace and righteousness, and the reign on earth of love and good will. Before the Nazarene had appeared, he felt within himself the eternal Christly spirit, or that divine mind and will which was so soon to have new and perfected incarnation. But when the scribes and elders persecuted and slew the Man in whom the Word was articulated, he must needs forego all conformity to them, avow the Truth, and peradventure suffer persecution himself.
Serenus found the large upper chamber well filled, and those who had gathered were speaking words of gladness and praise. Their faces shone with the spirit of love, and there was perfect accord and unity. Men and women prophesied, each one as moved by inspiration; and there were also times of silence, when all were possessed with a spiritual ecstasy which no tongue could interpret. All were stirred to open themselves to the Holy Spirit, and it filled and overflowed them. Love was so eloquent in every countenance that all, whatever their native language, heard and understood its voice in their own souls. Each one praised and magnified God for his heavenly vision, and all felt that these were the first fruits of a new spiritual dominion. Every one offered his unbounded service to his neighbor, and mighty works of ministry and healing attested the power of the spirit which was in them. Their joy knew no measure. Those who had been slow of speech waxed eloquent, the weak grew strong, the fearful became bold, and the unlearned spoke words of wisdom. Serenus marvelled and rejoiced as he heard their utterances.
“Glory to God for he is our strength!”
“Peace and good will to all on earth!”
“We give free course to the same spirit which filled Jesus of Nazareth!”
“The goodness of the Lord enlargeth our heart!”
“The chains of captives fall off and they go free!”
“Our eyes behold thy salvation!”
“The way of life is made plain before us!”
“Our countenances shine with the glory of thy presence!”
“The day of the Lord hath dawned!”
“Signs and wonders are multiplied!”
“Behold our sons and daughters shall prophesy!”
“A great light hath been kindled in our souls!”
“The Spirit of Truth is in our midst!”
“Our love aboundeth toward all men!”
Such were a few of the manifold testimonies.
The soul of Serenus was aflame with praise and gladness. Looking about him, he perceived that nearly all who had gathered were unlearned, and of no reputation; such as had contempt of the Pharisees and doctors of the Law. Whence this wonderful wisdom! Oh, joyful demonstration! Behold the tabernacle of God is now within the hearts of men!
O breath of God! breathed by his children now,
Free course his spirit hath; their souls aspire.
With life and love their hearts thou dost endow,
Baptized e’en now with warmth of heavenly fire.
Serenus was inspired to mingle his wisdom with that of this spiritual love-feast, and he addressed the assembly:—
“Brethren, it is good to be here; for lo, the power of God filleth this place. But peradventure ye persuade yourselves that God hath become more willing than he was wont, and therefore hath repented him of the past, and now poureth out his Spirit more abundantly. Nay! His Spirit hath always been poured out, for it filleth all things; but now, with one accord, ye have opened yourselves to it. Behold God hath not changed, for he hath everlasting perfection, and abideth everywhere. He is not like unto men, giving or withholding his favor by times and seasons, but is everlasting fulness, now and through all time, to all who discover him and find his kingdom within. Behold the same mind which filled the Nazarene to the uttermost dwelleth unmanifested in all; but they wot not of its presence, for they look without, expecting it to come with observation. While Jesus was with you after the flesh, behold your eyes were holden by his bodily presence, but now ye see how the Spirit of the Messiah aboundeth unto all. God dwelleth not in oblations and circumcisions and ordinances, nay, even not in yonder Temple more than in all the earth, for his presence is everywhere. Behold, whether Jew or Gentile, Parthian, Mede, or Elamite, be ye renewed in the inner man, for there is where God speaketh. As ye put on the Christly mind, which was incarnated in Jesus, ye have salvation within you. His blood, being interpreted, betokens his inmost eternal quality; and this is Spirit, and this is life. Till now ye knew not that ye had Christ in you, waiting for your outworking. But now ye have opened your vision, and therefore abound in faith, and show forth God’s power as it becometh his children. I salute every one of you in love.”
As Serenus concluded, many gathered about him, and grasped him by the hand, and blessed and saluted him.
The news of the unwonted fervor of the assembly soon became noised abroad; and many who were curious hastily gathered, and marvelled at what they saw. Many false reports went out concerning it, until one Peter, a disciple, formerly weak, but now of great boldness, lifted up his voice and made explanation, showing that according to prophecy all these things should come to pass.
After Serenus went out, he joined the great throng, and went up to the Jewish Pentecost at the Temple. He desired once more to behold the great national festival of his own people, to which the pilgrims from all the scattered tribes had come up.
The tramp of a multitude of feet resounded through the outer courts. The strange costumes of Jews and proselytes from Mesopotamia and Cappadocia, from Pontus, Egypt, and Arabia, mingled in picturesque color and design with the less conspicuous habiliments of the denizens of the Holy City. There was a great confusion of tongues and dialects, and the tables of the money-changers were loaded with piles of strange coins from many countries. The dues of the Temple, and the price of lambs, goats, and bullocks, must needs be paid for in the sacred money of Judea. There were great pens containing lambs of the first year, selected by the priests as being without blemish, and rams and he-goats, approved as sound, to be sold for sacrifices, the large profit going to the priests, as pertaining to their office. The bleating and lowing of the herds that were crowded into the great Temple market—soon to suffer religious martyrdom—was mingled with the vast babel of other sounds and voices. The marble pavement was littered with refuse, and would soon be stained with blood, poured out by the priests in conformity to the ceremonial law. The blare of silver trumpets, and the reverberation of patriotic and religious anthems, which were sung as ordained by the Levites, also formed a part of the great chorus. All the broad spaces on Mount Moriah swarmed with humanity, and the sweltering, brassy air vibrated with clamor and motion. The Gate Beautiful, which led from the court of the Gentiles to that of the Women, was flung wide open, and its fair proportions awakened the pride of every Hebrew. Farther on, and leading into the court of Israel, was the still more celebrated Gate of Nicanor, made of polished Corinthian brass, which was so brilliant in the bright sunshine as to dazzle every beholder.
At length the ceremonies began. The priests, dressed in long white robes, moved with unsandalled feet to and fro in long processions with military precision, and finally ranged themselves in a great semicircle, each with two leavened loaves and a peace offering, and waved them before the Lord. The animals were slain in great numbers, and placed upon the altars for the appointed sacrifices, the fires were lighted, and the smoke of incense ascended toward heaven, until the fierce rays of the sun were almost shut out by the great cloud that hung over the Holy Hill. At length the silver trumpets blew a great blast as a signal for silence. The High Priest, flanked by his subordinates, advanced upon an elevated gallery in the sight of the vast multitude, stretched forth his hands toward heaven with fingers mystically dispread, and blessed the people in the name of the God of Israel. The heart of every Hebrew swelled with pride as the great festal service was celebrated, and even Roman centurions looked on with interest.
Serenus was deeply moved as he silently viewed the mighty concourse, and witnessed the elaborate ritual which in the past concerned him, and had been wrapped about his whole life. He then thanked God that the fetters which had held him even lightly were now broken, and that the light of truth had shone into his soul, and destroyed a yoke of bondage which long had been galling.
Serenus secured a position somewhat elevated above the heads of the people, just inside of the Beautiful Gate; and from it he made a wide survey of the imposing ceremonies of the Feast of Weeks. He marvelled how this favored people, the descendants of Abraham and possessors of a rich spiritual heritage, had disregarded the warnings of old, and permitted their worship to degenerate into outward legality and form. The simple ordinances, which once were only the tokens of a pure inner faith, had become an unceasing round of cumbersome and dead observances. The life of the Jewish system had withered, and the cup of bitterness of the Chosen People was fast filling up. But what could he or the little band of the upper chamber do, to clothe with flesh and life the dry bones of the dead religious faith of a dispersed race? Such were a few of his musings when he beheld the great throng, as they surged in and out before him.
But suddenly the air grew thick, and a heavier cloud than that of the sacrificial smoke overshadowed the temple courts. It was growing late in the afternoon, and a sudden tempest was at hand, following the great heat. Anon a blinding flash of lightning and peal of thunder that shook the very foundations of the Temple. A darkness fell like that of night, which was made thicker by contrast with the flashes which now seemed like fiery serpents, shooting through and around the Temple, and leaping athwart the heavens. A panic seized the great throng, and there was a mad rush to escape. Cries of anguish rent the air, as many were trampled down by the affrighted mass. Many were crushed by the pressure of the crowd behind, and all semblance of order was lost in the great struggle for life. Men, women, and children were pressed against the platform upon which Serenus was seated, and even those who were able to keep upright were borne helplessly along. There was a chorus of groans almost below his feet. He fell upon his breast, and found that by reaching down to the utmost, he was able to grasp the hands of some who were borne upon the shoulders of others. In this way he was able to rescue not a few, by lifting them to the level of the platform where he was. By the light of a vivid flash, he saw in the drifting current an elderly man, upon whose shoulders there was a young woman, whose drooping form and pale face showed that she had swooned. The man who carried her aloft had a glimpse of Serenus above him, and cried out as he was swept along,—
“Take her! Oh, save her! save her!”
By a supreme effort, Serenus was able to grasp her arm, and lift her to his own level, while he who had made the entreaty was quickly lost to sight in the irresistible moving tide and thick darkness. Serenus laid her tenderly down; and another woman, whom he before had lifted by his strong grasp, assisted in ministration. The face of the prostrate form was of the Jewish type, but her features were regular and beautiful. Her long black hair hung in wild confusion, as if to symbolize the disorderly scene through which she had passed. Her costume betokened refinement and social standing. Around her white neck there was a network of delicate gold chains interspersed with small precious stones. The folds of her white loose-fitting robe, of soft texture, were gathered by a girdle woven of golden threads, from which hung pendants of small pearls.
After a vigorous fanning and a little interval of rest, she gasped, opened her eyes, and slowly came to herself.
“O my father! where art thou? O Saulus!”
Serenus marvelled.
“Is Saulus thy friend? Pray, who art thou?”
“I am Rebecca, the daughter of Benoni of Tarsus.”
CHAPTER XVI
AFTER THE STORM
The fury of the storm rapidly diminished. The great rushing tide of men, women, and children soon thinned out and grew sluggish. The darkness lifted, and the lightning-flashes and peals of thunder died away, but the great worshipful throng was demoralized and scattered.
The panic began when some marble columns in the tier beyond the court of Israel had been struck by lightning, and shattered and thrown down, wounding several priests, who were washing their hands in the great brazen Laver. Such was the starting-point of the stampede which had been so disastrous and widespread.
Rebecca was uninjured, and rapidly recovered from the prevailing fright and excitement. Except for the anxiety regarding the fate of her father, she was soon quite herself. She turned to her unknown deliverer to render him thanks.
“The God of Israel reward thee, O son of Judah! Thy gracious ministry was my salvation. Receive the thanks of the daughter of Benoni. My father will joyfully bless thee, and also reward thy goodness if thou wilt accept some favor.”
“Fair maid of the house of Benoni! the Lord hath already rewarded me abundantly, for I have much joy in thy deliverance.”
The pallor and weakness which marked her face gradually passed away, and gave place to a look of interest and curiosity.
“It all seems like a confused dream. I remember that my father lifted me to his shoulders to bear me out of the mad throng, and I knew nothing further until I found myself here.”
“He delivered thee into my hands, by his own words, and now, behold we will seek him.”
Rebecca was now able to walk, and they passed out through the Beautiful Gate in quest of Benoni. There were groups of people everywhere; many drenched by the great storm, some faint or wounded, and a few of the more helpless were being borne away by friends, or keepers of the Temple courts. But the father of Rebecca was nowhere to be found.
“Peradventure he hath been bruised or faint, and taken to the inn of Almon where we abide. I will return thither. But I am a stranger in the Holy City. May I still presume upon thy favor in that thou wouldst show me the way?”
The sky had already cleared, the air was sweet and fresh, and the sun dispensing his parting beams before sinking below the western horizon.
“Behold what a great calm follows the tempest,” said Rebecca. “The Holy City seems purified.”
“A fitting symbol of the storms and waves that rage in the soul of man,” said Serenus. “They chasten, and then in due time bring forth a harvest of peace.”
“Must peace of soul come only as the result of tempest?”
“I say not that; but yet life is like the ebb and flow of the tides. If stillness were never broken up, peradventure there would be stagnation. It is the fury of the storm that gives tranquillity its charm.”
“Should we, then, seek for waves to buffet us?”
“Nay; but when they come unsought, we should be lifted by them rather than submerged.”
“Peradventure one be not able?”
“That must not be conceded even to ourselves.”
“What is the secret of overcoming?”
“Keep a well-ordered mind, for our life is what our thoughts make it. Look beneath the surface of things. When the billows of the sea are angry, and foam and dash themselves, there is serenity in their unseen deeps.”
“Thou must account thyself a philosopher as well as a son of Israel.”
“Daughter of Benoni! I am a Jew; but the Chosen People are not the sole possessors of wisdom. It aboundeth through all the earth, but only they who seek it for its own sake taste of its fulness.”
They passed out through the west Temple gate of the outer court, and down the long flight of steps along the slope of Mount Moriah. The steep descent caused Rebecca again to grow dizzy from faintness, and she leaned upon Serenus for support. He put his arm about her to save her from falling, and thus they made their way as rapidly as possible toward the Sheepmarket. As they entered a narrow street, they met, face to face, a young woman moving with a rapid step in the opposite direction. She gave Serenus a slight salutation, and quickly passed by. He was still supporting Rebecca, and was startled at the recognition. It was Amabel.
Arriving at the inn, Rebecca invited Serenus to enter, and receive the thanks of her friends. But he made some plea of haste, and turned to depart, only saying,—
“Peace abide with thee!”
She returned the salutation, and then, remembering that he had not made himself known, except as a son of Israel, inquired,—
“Who art thou, that we may send thee greeting for thy great favor?”
“I am a friend of Saulus;” and before her knock was answered, he was out of sight.
A few days after, late in the afternoon, a little group were holding earnest converse in the court of the Sheepmarket inn. Abdiel, the venerable Rabbi of Tarsus, bewailed the changes which had come to pass in the Holy City since his long sojourn there many years before.
“Behold,” he exclaimed bitterly, “false prophets and teachers have arisen, and boldly proclaim their blasphemous doctrines in the synagogues, yea, in the very courts of the Temple on the Holy Hill. The streams which should flow out in pure volume to refresh and confirm the children of the Dispersion are becoming poisoned at the fountain-head.”
“It is even as thou sayest, O venerable Abdiel!” replied Almon. “We may almost perceive heresy and false doctrine in the very air about us! It cometh mainly from the followers of an impostor named Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified not long ago between two thieves. His disciples have waxed yet more bold in their teachings; and some of them set at naught the Holy Place itself, while others continue in the ordinances of the Chosen People, but lightly esteem them.”
“What manner of people are they? and what is their doctrine?”
“Saulus is more learned in these matters, and can more perfectly inform thee.”
“I have heard from common report, since coming from Tarsus, somewhat of the Galilean and his doings. He was without reputation or learning, but by certain charms and magical works and healings was able to deceive many. He even made pretence to the Messiahship, boasted that he could destroy the Temple in three days, and called himself the King of the Jews.”
“As he was no king, and did nothing to restore the kingdom and drive out the Roman, peradventure he was mad, or possessed of an evil spirit,” said Abdiel.
“That matters not, O venerable Rabbi! so long as his followers are multiplied and have waxed bold. They must be driven out or destroyed, otherwise great harm will befall the church of our fathers. It hath come to my ears, O Almon! that my former enemy, the false teacher Serenus, hath joined himself to these blasphemers, and that the Rabban hath put him away from the Assembly. It behooveth us to be vigilant, else this heresy may spread even to the overthrow of our nation and people. I shall counsel with the High Priest on the morrow, and take measures to rid the Holy City of these deceivers who are persuading the common people with their vain pretensions.”
“Thou speakest with wisdom and boldness,” said Almon; “yet it behooveth thee to proceed with caution and secrecy, for this new doctrine hath taken a strong hold upon the ignorant and unlearned. I have heard of one Stephanos, who is vehement for the strange heresy. He is young and learned, and speaketh both in the Hebrew and Greek tongues.”
“It hath been told me, O Almon! how he stirreth up the people by his eloquence, and of his disputations, whereby he may gain a great following. Peradventure on the morrow he may be at the synagogue of the Cyrenians, as hath been wont. I will go and confront this calumniator of our Holy Law.”
“The God of Israel be with thee!” said Abdiel. “Thou art strong and courageous in the defence of our doctrine.”
Since the return of Saulus he had been earnestly occupied in the formation of plans for the uprooting of false doctrine, and the punishment of the violators of the ceremonial law. His zeal in this cause was only alternated and tempered by his periods of depression and uncertainty as to the affection of Cassia. His strength as a champion of the traditions of the elders was only equalled by the power of his love for her, but the former inspired strength and the latter weakness. He could face unnumbered heretics without a fear, but was vanquished by the sight of the innkeeper’s daughter. Day after day had swiftly passed since his return from Tarsus, but still he was utterly in the dark as to her real feelings. She was friendly, and took a deep interest in all his plans for crushing the traitors in the camp of Israel, but more he could not clearly divine. He was holden from making any allusion to the involuntary eavesdropping upon the occasion of his arrival; and what he had heard on the part of little Cassia had been so indefinite that he lived in a condition of mingled hope, fear, and uncertainty. Barnabas was still at the Sheepmarket, but there was nothing in his actions to aid in the solution of the riddle. Saulus loved with all the intensity of his fiery nature; and he even persuaded himself that if Cassia loved Barnabas, he could do nothing but flee the Holy City, and so drifted along, not daring to find out the truth. The suspense could not much longer be borne.
As he retired to his chamber after the conversation, he sat down to commune with himself, and decide upon some course of action. His was no ordinary affection. The world without little Cassia would be a desert.
“Was I born for this strange, unfathomable emotion? O Eros! why hast thou so enslaved me? I am hopelessly bound by thy fetters. But stay! unmindful of the God of Israel, I have called upon the name of the strange deity of the Greek. I crave forgiveness, O Jehovah! I would not blaspheme. Perchance she hath crowded thee out of my heart, but my love is not born of the senses. It is my spirit and life, O Cassia! that I would mingle with thine.
“Wherever I look I behold thee! Thou art sunshine in the midst of darkness! I dare not gaze upon thy features, or look into thine eyes; for thy soul shines out and dazzles me. O little Cassia! I was here with thee even while I was absent. As I neared Jerusalem, I dreamed of Paradise, but was plunged into the valley of Gehenna! O Future, speak! and make known my fate!”