Into this cup of joy of hers Firmian of course cast no drop of poison relative to (what he _supposed_ to be) the news of the Venner's having made prize of the flowers. He was so happy that day; his little toy crown had so tenderly covered and soothed all the bleeding wounds on that head of his whence he had lifted his crown of thorns just a little way (as Alexander's diadem soothed the bleeding head of Lysimachus), that his only wish was that the night might be as long as a Polar one, since it was just as calm and peaceful, as bright and serene. In moments like these the poison fangs of all our troubles are broken out, and a Paul, like him in Malta of old, has turned all the tongues of the soul's serpents to stone. When Stiefel rose to go, Firmian did not detain him, but insisted that he should allow them both to go with him, not to their own door only, but to his. They went out. The broad heaven, with the streets of the City of God all lit with the lamps which are suns, drew them on, out beyond the narrow crossways of the town, and into the great spectacle hall of night, where we breathe the blue of heaven, and drink the east breeze. We should conclude and sanctify all our chamber feasts by "going to church" in that cool, vast temple, that great cathedral whose dome is adorned with the sacred picture of the Most Holy, portrayed in a mosaic of stars. They roamed on refreshed and exalted by breezes of the coming spring hastening to blow before their appointed time, those breezes which wipe the snow away from the mountains. All nature gave promise of a mild winter--to lead the poor, who have no fuel, gently through the darkest quarter of the year--it was a season such as none curse except the rich, who can order sleighs but not snow. The two men carried on a conversation befitting the sublimity of the night; Lenette said nothing. Firmian said, "How near together these miserable oyster banks, the villages, seem to be, and how small they are; when we go from one of these villages to another the journey seems to us about the same in length as a mite's, if it crawled on a map from the name of the one to the name of the other, might appear to it. And to higher spirits our earth-ball may perhaps be a globe for their children, which their tutor turns and explains." "Yet," said Stiefel, "there may very possibly be worlds even smaller than this earth of ours; and, after all, there _must_ be something in ours since the Lord Christ died for it." At this the warm blood rushed to Lenette's heart. Firmian merely answered, "More Saviours than one have died for this world and mankind, and I am convinced that Christ will one day take many a good man by the hand, and say, '_You_ have suffered under your Pontius Pilate too!' And for that matter many a seeming Pilate is very likely a Messiah, if the truth were known." Lenette's secret dread was that her husband was really an absolute Atheist, or at all events a "philosopher."