The Old Men Who Knew, however, were not disheartened. Everything would all come right in the end, they prophesied, for so it was writ in their most Holy Chapters. Besides, they themselves needed but little food. They were so very old. * * * * * Winter came. The village was deserted. More than half of the populace died from sheer want. The only hope for those who survived lay beyond the mountains. But the Law said “No!” And the Law must be obeyed. * * * * * One night there was a rebellion. Despair gave courage to those whom fear had forced into silence. Feebly the Old Men protested. They were pushed aside. They complained of their lot. They bewailed the ingratitude of their children, but when the last wagon pulled out of the village, they stopped the driver and forced him to take them along. The flight into the unknown had begun. * * * * * It was many years since the Wanderer had returned. It was no easy task to discover the road he had mapped out. Thousands fell a victim to hunger and thirst before the first cairn was found. From there on the trip was less difficult. The careful pioneer had blazed a clear trail through the woods and amidst the endless wilderness of rock. By easy stages it led to the green pastures of the new land. Silently the people looked at each other. “He was right after all,” they said. “He was right, and the Old Men were wrong.... “He spoke the truth, and the Old Men lied.... “His bones lie rotting at the foot of the cliffs, but the Old Men sit in our carts and chant their ancient lays.... “He saved us, and we slew him.... “We are sorry that it happened, but of course, if we could have known at the time....” Then they unharnessed their horses and their oxen and they drove their cows and their goats into the pastures and they built themselves houses and laid out their fields and they lived happily for a long time afterwards. * * * * * A few years later an attempt was made to bury the brave pioneer in the fine new edifice which had been erected as a home for the Wise Old Men. A solemn procession went back to the now deserted valley, but when the spot was reached where his body ought to have been, it was no longer there. A hungry jackal had dragged it to his lair. A small stone was then placed at the foot of the trail (now a magnificent highway). It gave the name of the man who had first defied the dark terror of the unknown, that his people might be guided into a new freedom. And it stated that it had been erected by a grateful posterity. * * * * * As it was in the beginning—as it is now—and as some day (so we hope) it shall no longer be. CHAPTER I THE TYRANNY OF IGNORANCE In the year 527 Flavius Anicius Justinianus became ruler of the eastern half of the Roman Empire.