"My good fellow," he said, turning to the slow traveller, "I should be greatly obliged to you if you would tell me how it is you are so successful against the enemy. I have been watching you for a long time as I walked behind you, and you never seem put out whatever happens to you, and I seldom see you even trip." At the words a pained expression crossed the face of the traveller, and he looked around him carefully, as if expecting to find the enemy at his elbow; moreover, when the stranger praised him, he impulsively put his hands over his ears to prevent hearing. But now turning his eyes steadily towards the Radiant City he said: "It is written in the Guide Book, 'My strength is made perfect in weakness.'" Amer, remembering the rules inscribed on the walls of the cave of Spiritual Pride, noticed how the slow traveller resisted the temptation to speak of his own experience, and spoke instead of the King. "Ah!" sighed the stranger, "you are right. It is because I forget the promises of my King and His Book that I fail; thank you, Sir. But look, what is that crowd I see before me? If some poor fellow is being belaboured by the enemy I must be off to help," and he began running, and would even then have forgotten his shoes, if Iddo had not cried after him, "Your shoes, your shoes." "What a warm heart that man has!" said Belthiah, "full of feeling for others and of humility." "But how cross he was," said Iddo, "not as a soldier of the Great King ought to be." "Hush, child!" whispered her mother, "the enemy is near. I hear his whisper in your voice. The King tells us not to judge." When the travellers had reached the crowd they saw a strange sight. A large number of pilgrims with the King's Mark upon them were standing around a man who was talking in a loud voice. In his hand he held the Guide Book, and as he spoke he tore out first one page and then another, throwing them behind him. "It is not by any means authentic," he was saying, "and certain parts which you have taken for truth are nothing more or less than allegory and fable, while other apparent prophecies were not written by the people you 'suppose, but by men long after the events had happened, so are not prophecies at all." "Mother, mother," cried Iddo, looking up with tears in her eyes, "do you hear what the man is saying about our Guide Book?" But before her mother had time to answer, a loud voice rang out, which Iddo recognised at once as that of Chisleu, the stranger with whom they had just been talking. "That's a lie," he cried, "no one need believe it. The book is true from beginning to end." Then there arose an uproar. "Let the preacher alone," cried one, "he says he has studied the question, and moreover confesses that he himself is journeying to the Radiant City. Let him speak. If he has anything to teach us let him do it." "But it is false," cried Chisleu, "don't listen to him. He's a wolf in sheep's clothing."