“Why, good father, the world was not built in a day. I will be honest with thee: I cannot believe; but I will pray Christ to help me believe. Is it enough?”
“I am but a poor fool,” spoke the beggar, “and thou a philosopher, and yet—if thou dost pray to Christ thou dost believe already.”
“And that, again, is wisdom,” quoth the hermit.
So they sat and talked while the shadows moved ’round the mountain and the sun began to sink over the sea to the west.
“When the sun goeth down we journey into the world,” the hermit said.
Toward twilight they heard the footsteps of the soldier, and his bronzed face appeared at the head of the path. He halted for a moment, surveying the scene. They were on their feet, girding themselves for the descent.
“What now?” he cried, when he could get his breath.
The philosopher spoke for all. “We have been to school, Sir Knight, as thou hast, and we have learned that on this Christmas Day which takes us back to the world. Wilt come?”