"It means this, my friend: Christianity links the soul to the living God from which it sprang. To become a Christian is not a myth, not a mere intellectual conviction, not an adoption of philosophical tenets: it is an act, a solemn act of surrender; it is an acknowledgment that the world has been disturbed by influences foreign to the true God; it is a renunciation of those influences, a solemn reunion of the soul with the Eternal Soul, the Creator, the Upholder, the Redeemer; it is positive. A soul so linked by her own free consent, placed under influences unknown to those outside, must, so long as conscience speaks at all, suffer from the conflict she is undergoing, in breaking loose from a personal intercourse with her Maker, as also from a revelation of truth, beauty, and goodness, to plunge anew into the darkness of human guesses."
"You speak in enigmas, my lord! I presume one must be initiated to understand you. Meantime, tell me, can you do anything for Chione?"
"I am somewhat of a physician, although no professor of magic. I will see your patient, if it will give you comfort."
Magas bethought him: the visit of a Christian bishop to his house would be too remarkable. What was he to do? Suddenly he said: "What could possess Chione to make herself a Christian?"
"I believe it was the love of truth and beauty. She sought a key to the mysteries of life, and Christianity offered her one."
"And yet she left it!"
"It is by no means clear that she has left it, otherwise than by act. She is an unfaithful member, but she still believes, or it would have no power over her."
"I wonder is it religion that is making her so ill? My Lord Dionysius, among her former companions, do you know one whose discretion you could trust to take care of her for a day or two, who would be competent to discover whether Christianity is disturbing her?"
"I know an amanuensis who might perhaps be willing to oblige you; we will see." They left the house by a side-door. The bishop led the way through a narrow path for some distance, till they came to a villa. Here he made a signal at the gate; it was opened by an old servitor, who bowed profoundly as he admitted him and his companion. Dionysius whispered a word in his ear, and the old man tottered on before to a side entrance, which he left open. They entered, and very shortly another door opened into a small library. A lady was writing there; they saluted her, and Magas recognized Lotis.
The bishop quickly made known the purport of his visit, and Lotis willingly offered her services. Magas, however, demurred. "Is it possible," said he; "are you really a Christian?"