'
Again Basil kept a long silence.
'You have done well to tell me,' he said at length; then, with a
wave of the hand, dismissed the Syrian.
It was nearly mid-day when Marcian returned. At the sight of Basil
his pale, weary countenance assumed a troubled smile. He embraced
his friend, kissing him affectionately on both cheeks, and sat down
by him with a sigh of fatigue.
'What makes you so wan?' asked Basil, peering into his eyes.
'I sleep ill.'
'Why so? Is it pain or thought that keeps you wakeful?'
'Both, perhaps,' answered Marcian. He paused, reflected gloomily,
and went on in a subdued voice. 'Do you think often, Basil, of the
eternal fire?'
'Not often. Sometimes, of course.'
'Last night I had a dream, which assuredly was a temptation of the
evil one. My father stood before me, and said, "Fear not, Marcian,
for there is no Gehenna. It is but the vision of man's tormented
conscience." And I awoke with a great joy. But at once the truth
came upon me; and until dawn I prayed for strength to resist that
perilous solace. This morning I have talked long with a holy man,
opening my heart to him, that he might finally resolve my doubts.
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