"Once I could have done it bravely, nay, joyfully," said the penitent. "Not now." And there was a silence.
At last Don Juan resumed, "My boy, thy courage shames my weakness. What hast thou seen, what dost thou see, that makes this thing possible to thee?"
"My father knows. I see Him who died for me, who rose again for me, who lives at the right hand of God to intercede for me."
"For me?"
"Yes; it is this thought that gives strength and peace."
"Peace--which I have lost for ever."
"Not for ever, my honoured father. No; you are his, and of such it is written, 'Neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand.' Though your tired hand has relaxed its grasp of him, his has never ceased to hold you, and never can cease."
"I was at peace and happy long ago, when I believed, as Don Rodrigo said, that I was justified by faith in him."
"Once justified, justified for ever," said Carlos.
"Don Rodrigo used to say so too, but--I cannot understand it now," and a look of perplexity passed over his face.