Meanwhile, Sybil and Pearl were walking across the moor. After a time they stopped at the turf altar erected by the mad girl, and she explained to her companion the reason she had made such a place.
"The Master is angry with poor Pearl now," she said sadly, "and He has taken the sacred cup from her. She is not good enough to keep it. But when the Master is pleased, and will save Pearl from the Pit"—she shuddered—"He will place the cup on this altar, and Pearl will bring it back to the chapel. Then she will be saved and happy."
"But, Pearl, you must not think of God in this way. He is your Father, and He loves you."
"He did love Pearl, but He made her ill, and Mrs Jeal told Pearl that she was wicked and in danger of the Worm."
"Pearl! Pearl! Do not believe that. Mrs Jeal is wrong. God loves you!"
"Why, then, did He make Pearl ill if He loved her? And why did He take away the Holy Grail which Pearl watched over so carefully?"
"He did not take it away," said Sybil, hardly knowing what reply to make.
"Yes, He did," persisted the poor, mad creature. "Pearl was not good enough to keep it. But when she is good the cup will come down to earth again."
"Do you think it is in heaven now, Pearl?"
"I am sure it is. No roof here to stop the cup from floating up to the New Jerusalem. In the chapel it would have stayed, because the bad roof kept it down, but here it went up and up and up to the sky."