The man who had died wandered on, and it was a sunny day. He looked around as he went, and stood aside as the pack-train passed by, towards the city. And he said to himself:
“Strange is the phenomenal world, dirty and clean together! And I am the same. Yet I am apart! And life bubbles variously. Why should I have wanted it to bubble all alike? What a pity I preached to them! A sermon is so much more likely to cake into mud, and to close the fountains, than is a psalm or a song. I made a mistake. I understand that they executed me for preaching to them. Yet they could not finally execute me, for now I am risen in my own aloneness, and inherit the earth, since I lay no claim on it. And I will be alone in the seethe of all things; first and foremost, for ever, I shall be alone. But I must toss this bird into the seethe of phenomena, for he must ride his wave. How hot he is with life! Soon, in some place, I shall leave him among the hens. And perhaps one evening I shall meet a woman who can lure my risen body, yet leave me my aloneness. For the body of my desire has died, and I am not in touch anywhere. Yet how do I know! All at least is life. And this cock gleams with bright aloneness, though he answers the lure of hens. And I shall hasten on to that village on the hill ahead of me; already I am tired and weak, and want to close my eyes to everything.”
Hastening a little with the desire to have finished going, he overtook two men going slowly, and talking. And being soft-footed, he heard they were speaking of himself. And he remembered them, for he had known them in his life, the life of his mission. So he greeted them, but did not disclose himself in the dusk, and they did not know him. He said to them:
“What then of him who would be king, and was put to death for it?”
They answered suspiciously: “Why ask you of him?”
“I have known him, and thought much about him,” he said.
So they replied: “He has risen.”
“Yea! And where is he, and how does he live?”
“We know not, for it is not revealed. Yet he is risen, and in a little while will ascend unto the Father.”
“Yea! And where then is his Father?”
“Know ye not? You are then of the Gentiles! The Father is in Heaven, above the cloud and the firmament.”
“Truly? Then how will he ascend?”
“As Elijah the Prophet, he shall go up in a glory.”
“Even into the sky.”
“Into the sky.”
“Then is he not risen in the flesh?”
“He is risen in the flesh.”
“And will he take flesh up into the sky?”
“The Father in Heaven will take him up.”
The man who had died said no more, for his say was over, and words beget words, even as gnats. But the man asked him: “Why do you carry a cock?”
“I am a healer,” he said, “and the bird hath virtue.”
“You are not a believer?”
“Yea! I believe the bird is full of life and virtue.”
They walked on in silence after this, and he felt they disliked his answer. So he smiled to himself, for a dangerous phenomenon in the world is a man of narrow belief, who denies the right of his neighbour to be alone. And as they came to the outskirts of the village, the man who had died stood still in the gloaming and said in his old voice:
“Know ye me not?”
And they cried in fear: “Master!”
“Yea!” he said, laughing softly. And he turned suddenly away, down a side lane, and was gone under the wall before they knew.
So he came to an inn where the asses stood in the yard. And he called for fritters, and they were made for him. So he slept under a shed. But in the morning he was wakened by a loud crowing, and his cock’s voice ringing in his ears. So he saw the rooster of the inn walking forth to battle, with his hens, a goodly number, behind him. Then the cock of the man who had died sprang forth, and a battle began between the birds. The man of the inn ran to save his rooster, but the man who had died said:
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