"Lad, what is the length of thine ears?" growled the Baron. "What crouched ass crammed all this nonsense into thee? ’Enlightened mind’—’exquisite types’—’charming symbolism’! I am not at all sure that I understand thee, thou exquisite gander! But if I do, what thou meanest, put in plain language, is simply that there is no God. Eh?" "Fair Father, under your good leave, I would choose other words. God—what we call God—is the Unknowable Essence. Therefore, undoubtedly there is God, and in a symbolic sense, He is the Creator of all things, this Essence being the source out of which all other essences are evolved. Therefore, parabolically speaking"—— "I’ll lay my stick about thy back, thou parabolical mud-puddle!" cried the Baron. "Let me be served up for Saladin’s supper if I understand a word of thy foolery! Art thou a true son of holy Church or not? That is what I want to know." "Undoubtedly, fair Sir!" said Messire Renaud. "God forbid that I should be a heretic! Our holy Mother the Church has never banned the Nominalists." "Then it is high time she did!" retorted the Baron. "I reckon she thinks they will do nobody much harm, because no mortal being can understand them. But where, in the name of all the Seven Wonders of the World, thou gattest such moonshine sticking in thy brains, shoot me if I know. It was not from my Lady, thy fair mother; and I am sure it was not from me." Messire Renaud made no answer beyond a laugh, and the Lady Queen quickly introduced a different subject. I fancy she saw that the Baron was losing his temper. But when Messire Renaud was about to take leave, Lady Judith arose, as quietly as she does everything, and glided to his side. "Fair Sir," she said gently, "I pray you, pardon one word from an old woman. You know years should teach wisdom." "Trust me, Lady, to listen with all respect," said he courteously. "Fair Sir," she said, "when you stand face to face with death, you will find _It_ does not satisfy your need. You will want _Him_. You are not a thing, but a person. How can the thing produced be greater than that which produces it?" "Your pardon, fair Lady and holy Mother!" interposed Messire Renaud quickly. "I do not object to designate the Unknowable Essence as Him. Far from it! I do but say, as the highest minds have said,—We cannot know. It maybe Him, It, Them:—we cannot know. We can but bow in illimitable adoration, and strive to perfect, to purify and enlighten, our minds, so that they shall grow nearer and nearer to that ineffable Possibility." A very sad look passed over Lady Judith’s face. "My son," she said, "’if the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness!’ These are not my words, but His that died for thee." And without another word, she glided back to her seat. "Margot," said I, when she came to undress me, "is my body or my soul me?"