"What more can he require of me?" thought Maud. "Let him but say, and I will do any thing to serve this greatest of all the angels—will die—will be his slave!"
In the twilight, Maud saw, all at once, beside her a being more beautiful than she had even thought her Christ. He was thin and pale; he looked tired, and there were drops of blood on his forehead and tears in his eyes.
Yet was there something noble and good about him, that seemed grander than all the beauty of this earth, and melted the heart of the haughty Maud; so that she asked him to come to her cabin for food, and promised to make the old dame give him clothes.
He shook his head, and answered, "I have come to you before, naked, and hungry, and tired, and sad; but you drove me away."
"O, no, you are mistaken," said Maud; "I never saw you in my life before."
"When you refused food and shelter to the poor, old, and wretched, you were starving and freezing me."
"How could I know that?" said Maud, a little peevishly. "But, come, take my hand, and I will lead you where there is shelter and food."
He drew back from the hand she offered. "I cannot touch these fingers; wicked words are written over them."
"No such thing!" said Maud, thoroughly vexed. "There is not a man at the fair but would be proud to take my hand. Read the wicked words, if you can."
"Waste, weakness, indolence, selfishness, scorn, vanity," he read, as if the hand were a book spread out before him.