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    Chapter 15

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    Next day among his letters were two of value in the history of
    Vergilius--one from the procurator, apprising him of his appointment to
    command the cohorts, the other a communication with no signature, the
    source of which was, in his view, quite apparent. This latter one gave
    him the greater satisfaction. It conveyed, in formal script, the
    following message:

    "TO ONE SEEKING WISDOM IN PRAYER

    "If you would share in the deliberations of the Council of the
    Covenant, be at the well of Nicanor, which is opposite the tenth column
    in the king's portico of the temple, at the second sounding of the
    sacred horns on the Day of Atonement. There wait until one shall come
    and ask what you are seeking, and you shall answer, 'Knowledge of the
    one God.' Then, if he turns away, follow him and do as he bids you."

    His opportunity had come. He waited with the curiosity of a child.
    Soon, possibly, he should see the face of the great Lawgiver and learn
    of things beyond the valley of death. If all went well he would amaze
    the people of Rome with wonder stories and give them assurance of
    immortal life.

    The city had been thronged with pilgrims that day of the ancient
    festival. It was turning dusk when Vergilius made his way through
    crowded streets to the well of Nicanor. Suddenly he heard a trumpet
    signal, and then followed that moment of silence when every tongue and
    foot and wheel stopped, quickly, and all stood listening for the awful
    name spoken but once a year.

    Presently the shout of the high priest rang like a trumpet-peal above
    the roofs of the city. Then Jerusalem was all begirt and overflooded
    with song. Maidens, white robed, were singing in distant vineyards;
    people were singing in the streets; trained devotees were whirling and
    dancing and chanting psalms in the court of the Temple, while priest
    and Levite followed, blowing, with all their power of lung, upon the
    sacred horns.

    In the midst of this outbreak a stranger approached Vergilius at the
    well, saying, "What seek you?" The young Roman gave his answer, but
    was unable to see the face of him who questioned. The stranger turned
    away and bade him follow. Without more ceremony Vergilius walked
    behind him through narrow streets, wholly unfamiliar, and presently

    descending a stairway, came into a dark passage. They halted, after a
    few paces, whereupon a loud rap startled the new-comer. Soon he could
    hear a door open. The stranger, taking his hand, led him into some
    dark place. It was all very strange, and like tales long familiar,
    relating to the city of mysteries. Standing there in the dark and
    silence, he had some misgivings which gave way when a voice addressed
    him as follows:

    "You are now in
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