promise of the dawn. It was, as the house of a man should be, an expression of the character and spirit of the master.
He turned to his friends when the song was ended, and invited them to be seated on the divan at the western end of the room.
“You have come to-night,” said he, looking around the circle, “at my call, as the faithful scholars of Zoroaster, to renew your worship and rekindle your faith in the God of Purity, even as this fire has been rekindled on the altar. We worship not the fire, but Him of whom it is the chosen symbol, because it is the purest of all created things. It speaks to us of one who is Light and Truth. Is it not so, my father?”
“It is well said, my son,” answered the venerable Abgarus. “The enlightened are never idolaters. They lift the veil of the form and go into the shrine of the reality, and new light and truth are coming to them continually through the old symbols.”
“Hear me, then, my father and my friends,” said Artaban, very quietly, “while I tell you of the new light and truth that have come to me through the most ancient of all signs. We
