“Nay, Gerson Brandt, we need not be lonely here. In Zanah all are friends and brothers. So long as thou livest I can never feel that I am a solitary traveller.”
A crimson flush swept over the face of the school-master, and when the wave receded he was deathly pale.
“All these years my care hath been over thee, Walda. My prayers have been for thee; my hopes have been set on thee. When thou hast become, indeed, the prophetess of Zanah, I shall know that thou art safe forever. Then shall I find peace indeed.”
“Safe, Gerson Brandt! What dost thou mean? Safe from what? I cannot be safer than I am now.”
Gerson Brandt made no reply. He walked to the window and looked out upon the little garden.
Walda was lost in thought for a moment or two. Presently she said:
“Oh, Gerson Brandt, I know that I am like unto Eve, for when thou and the elders warn me so much about love there comes to me the desire to understand it.”
“None can understand love, Walda. It is revealed to every man and every woman in a different form. It is the all-compassing emotion that moveth the world.”
Walda rose to her feet. Stepping close to the school-master, she said:
“Why, Gerson Brandt, there is that in thy voice that maketh me feel thou dost know much concerning love, which thou sayest is sinful and unworthy. Hast thou been tempted?”