The cave at Horeb proved to be a most agreeable place of abode, and Saulus found in his seclusion some of the happiest days of his life. Though the evening experiences of weakness and trembling seemed to have become a fixed habit, and scars and strains in soul and body were present as the legacy of the past, there was a gradual gain of vigor. The expanding soul was coming into a knowledge of its intrinsic divinity and oneness with the Father, and this reflected and expressed a growing wholeness.
Amoz, with the camel, made some explorations in the adjacent region; and about two hours distant, at a crossing of some of the more important paths, he found a small station of a few huts, where supplies could be [pg 303]replenished, and occasional communication had with the outside world.
But what was the world of the past to Saulus? It seemed as if he was severed from everything that had gone before, and had built a new world for himself. His own transformation was vastly greater than the change from the Holy City to the cave. But he had no intention of becoming a hermit. He would, for a time, gather his resources, and firmly knit the sinews of his soul, in preparation for future conquests for the truth among men. The mistakes and enmities of the past he would bury beneath a mountain of love and good-will which should brighten the world.
But what of past personal ties and obligations? First of all, what of little Cassia? What of his ardent affection and faithful promises to her? Was his love, which formerly was so consuming, yet alive and burning brightly? Did she stand out in lifelike proportions in his new world, or had her image largely faded out of his heart? What had she heard of him? and what would she think?
There were hours when these and similar questions thrust themselves upon Saulus with terrible force. The intense and all-absorbing love of Cassia, her unbounded confidence in him, and his former rapt devotion to her in return, stood out before him in letters of fire.
One evening his period of suffering, which he had already named “a stake in the flesh,” left him in a strange condition of unrest and uncertainty. The thought of Cassia filled him with something like its old-time intensity. Questions crowded themselves upon him, and [pg 304]clamored for an answer. But while the little maiden of the Sheepmarket still occupied a very warm place in his heart, with it was mingled a peculiar sense of ever-widening distance.
He put himself on the witness-stand,—
“Am I not a different Saulus from he who aforetime loved Cassia, and to whom she was so devoted?”
“Has this new and larger love driven out my affection, or only for a time overshadowed it?”
“Is she really fair and good, or did I deceive myself?”