"And yet thou hast left it in my breast, thou absent-minded robber."
Bending down, Pathema kissed his bosom, saying, "And I am glad to leave it there."
"And go forth hopeless?" queried he.
"Yes," said she, shaking her head in feigned solemnity, and Crito laughed.
Leaving figures of speech, Pathema expressed her joy that there appeared to be good ground for hope. Then they entered into an animated conversation about the Iliad and the Odyssey, books that the Hellenic people used as we do Robinson Crusoe, Shakespeare, and the Bible. Before parting they conversed about the Memoirs of the Apostles, called in our day the Gospels.
"I love the Nazarene's moral courage," said Crito.
"Yes," replied Pathema, "to be invited, for instance, to dine with a number of the learned, and without personal provocation to feel compelled to denounce them as hypocrites, must have been a severe trial of his courage."
"It seems easier to face wounds and the loss of blood than the loss of reputation," rejoined Crito.
"It is, but, of course, the full test is to face both. The applause of his comrades, of the whole army and of his nation, fires the spirit of the brave soldier that climbs the frowning walls of a besieged city; but the Nazarene had not the applause of a single soul when He faced the certainty of cruel death upon the cross; worse, there was derision, and He himself even cried out that God had forsaken Him."
"The cross means a great deal," said Crito reflectively.