Soon, I know, my Saviour will call me to himself, and no one will keep you here; then the tempter will come to you, and all the splendors of the great city, which after all only shine like rotten wood, like shining snakes and poisonous purple-berries--" "I do not care for them," interrupted Hermas, "the noisy place bewildered and frightened me.

Never, never will I tread the spot again." "So you have always said," replied Stephanus, "and yet the journey quite altered you.

How often before that I used to think when I heard you laugh that the sound must surely please our Father in Heaven.

And now?
You used to be like a singing bird, and now you go about silent, you look sour and morose, and evil thoughts trouble your sleep." "That is my loss," answered Hermas.

"Pray let go of my hand; the night will soon be past, and you have the whole live-long day to lecture me in." Stephanus sighed, and Hermas returned to his couch.
Sleep avoided them both, and each knew that the other was awake, and would willingly have spoken to him, but dissatisfaction and defiance closed the son's lips, and the father was silent because he could not find exactly the heart-searching words that he was seeking.
At last it was morning, a twilight glimmer struck through the opening of the cave, and it grew lighter and lighter in the gloomy vault; the boy awoke and rose yawning.