"All you suggest is already written here; and with far ampler powers than mine. This is the _Patchwork_ of Clement of Alexandria, in which he proves that the greatness of Rome and the philosophy of Hellas paved the way for the teaching of Christ, and, by maxims and numberless forecasts, made the first decided steps toward the earthly kingdom of God. Plato is the forerunner of Jesus the Nazarene." The last words, spoken with perfect simplicity, profoundly impressed Anatolius. He seemed to remember the whole scene as from some previous existence: the island flushed by that setting sun; the smell of tar on board the galley; and the words of Ammianus. The vista of a new world was momentarily opened to his mind. Meanwhile the trireme was heading round the cape; the little wood of cypress had almost disappeared behind the cliffs. Anatolius threw a last look at the lad and girl before the altar of Pan. The girl was pouring out the evening offering of goat's milk and honey; the boy beginning to play on his reed-pipe. The thin blue smoke of sacrifice could be seen rising above the wood after the human figures had vanished and while the trireme made for open sea. From the fore-part of the ship there came upon the silence a solemn music; the old monks were chanting in unison their evening prayer.... But over the still water came faint and clear notes of another melody. It was the little shepherd, piping his nocturnal hymn to Pan, the old god of gaiety, of freedom and love. Anatolius felt a thrill of wonder and surmise. "_Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven_," the monks chanted. The silvery notes of the shepherd's flute, floating high in the sky, mingled with the words of the Christians. The last beams faded from that happy islet, leaving it dull and hueless in the midst of the sea. Both hymns ceased. The wind blew sharply in the rigging and whipped up grey and white waves. The straining galley-timbers creaked and groaned. Shadows approached from the southward and the sea grew swiftly dark. Huge clouds massed overhead, and from beyond the horizon came the first long intermittent roll of thunder. Night and Tempest, hand in hand, were striding on apace. THE END End of Project Gutenberg's The Death of the Gods, by Dmitri Mérejkowski