During the last weeks of the Vassa season the constant, hidden strife that went on in the Samgha centred itself, curiously enough, around the figure of Oman. In the early months Hushka, through Oman, had enjoyed a triumph, for having brought from the pilgrimage a novice, of Brahman caste, and, moreover, a pupil of such high intelligence and one so devoted to the Dharma. The Sugata himself had complimented Hushka on his pupil’s progress; and at this point Mahapra’s bitterest ire and fear were roused. Too soon Oman began to give opening enough for criticism and belittlement. His laxity in effort and the falling off in his work and behavior became grossly apparent during the latter half of August, while whispers and comments from the adverse faction penetrated even to the Chaitya hall. From day to day Oman, absorbed in his own misery, pursued his course unconscious of notice. And day by day Hushka’s eyes followed him, in doubt and dread. Long Hushka forbore to speak; though through the demeanor of his pupil he suffered as he would scarcely have believed it possible that he still could suffer. The Bhikkhu had lately been allowing himself to believe that the thankless labor of years was about to find its reward. And now as, little by little, that belief was broken down, it seemed to carry with it his very vitality, till he had lost courage to engage with Mahapra any more in the slightest controversy over the commentators or the higher criticism of the holy books. Indeed, the honey-throated was aging, visibly; and this Oman woke at last to see. On the 3d of September the last meditation of the novices ended rather earlier than usual, at about seven o’clock. Hushka, who was master of the day, came in to dismiss them. He stood leaning against a pillar, near the door, wearily watching them file by, till the last had gone. Then Hushka turned to glance over the room, and beheld Oman still standing at its far end, his face gleaming pale in the waning light. Hushka gazed at him for a moment or two, and then moved slowly toward his pupil. Oman stood perfectly still, trembling a little, till the other halted within a foot of him. The two looked at each other till the novice dropped his eyes. “Oman,” said Hushka, after a heavy pause; “Oman,” and he paused again, while the guilt-laden one grew cold, “art thou ill?” For one, swift instant Oman looked at his master. “No, reverend sir, I am not ill,” he murmured. “Oman! Oman! Repentest thou of thy faith?” Oman gave a quick cry. “No!” he answered. “Yet something troubles thee. Canst thou not confide in me? Shall not I, thy master, give thee help? Tell me, Oman, tell me what it is that lies in thy heart. Do not fear. I have suffered too long, too well, not to know compassion.”