Nothing meant anything now, in the face of the unanswered riddle; nothing but the answer could have any meaning.
The great apostle of modern thought asked three questions: What can I know?
As a reasoning being what is it my duty to do in life?
What may I dare to hope hereafter?
Angela had never even heard of Kant; she only asked what it all meant; and the Knight of Malta was silent under the steady yellow light of the six wax torches.

Perhaps the white cross on his cloak was the answer, but the emblem was too far from words for mere humanity to understand it.

She wished they would take him away, for he was not her father, and she would be far better able to pray alone in her own room than in the stately presence of that one master whom all living things fear, man and bird and beast, and whatsoever has life in the sea.
To pray, yes; but for what?
Rebellious against outward things, the girl's prime intuition told her that her father was quite separated from his mortal symbol now, having suddenly left that which could change to become a part of the unknown truth, which must be unchangeable if it is true; invisible, without form or dimension, 'being' not 'living,' 'conscious' not 'aware,' 'knowing' not 'seeing,' 'eternal' not 'immortal.' That might be the answer, but it meant too much for a girl to grasp, and explained too little to be comforting.
The threads of thought broke short off again, and Angela's lips went on making words, while she gazed unwinking on the Knight's expressionless face.
Suddenly her mind awoke again in a sort of horror of darkness, and her lips ceased from moving for a while, for she was terrified.
Was there anything beyond?
Was it really God who had taken her father from her in an instant, or was it a blind force that had killed him, striking in the dark?
If that was the answer, what was there left?
The sensitive girl shivered.

Perhaps no bodily danger could have sent that chill through her.

It began in her head and crept quickly to her hands and then to her feet, for it was not a fear of death that came upon her, nor of anything outward.