The Man did not answer immediately. He looked slowly around upon the little group about Him. "With man," He said, "it is impossible, but with God all things are possible." One of the disciples, a short, heavily built man of middle age, with a bald crown and grizzled beard and hair, said to Him: "We have forsaken all and have followed You. What are we to have for that?" Then the Voice said: "I tell you the truth when I say, that you who have followed Me into the regeneration, when the Son of Man shall sit on the throne of His glory, you also shall sit upon twelve thrones judging all the people of the world. For every one that leaves home, or brothers or sisters, or mother or father, or child or lands for My sake, shall receive an hundredfold, and shall inherit everlasting life. But many that are first shall be last, and the last shall be first." Gilderman heard the clearly spoken words very distinctly. It is probable no man understood what was meant unless it were himself. He, having just beheld the inner parts of his own soul, saw, as it were, a scintilla of the light--but only a scintilla. Who is there, uninspired by the Son of Man Himself, who can understand the purport of that divine saying--so profound--an abyss of divine wisdom? God have mercy on us all! In these dreadful words lies the secret of heaven and of earth and of all that is and of all that is to come, and yet not one of us dares to open the gates of heavenly happiness. The world seems so near and that other supreme good so very remote. Gilderman saw something of the meaning of those divine words; it was only a glimpse of the truth, but again it filled his soul with despair. Once more he wondered dimly whether he felt that sudden qualm of depression because he had slept so ill the night before. * * * * * What would he have thought if he had known that while he was thus seeking vainly after his own happiness--yes, at that very moment--his wife at home was wrestling with the pangs of straining agony. XIII THE SHADOW OF DEATH IT was in the waning afternoon that Gilderman let himself into the house. He looked about him. The hall servant was not there, and Gilderman began stripping off his own overcoat. He felt an unusual irritation that the man should at this time be neglecting his duties. He wondered where his wife was; the house appeared to be strangely silent. There was a lot of letters lying upon the tray on the hall table. Why had the man left them there instead of taking them up to the study? He gathered up the packet and began shifting the letters over. There were two from the capital and one from the Western metropolis. There was one from Rome--that must be from Kitty Van Tassle.