“Behold thy God! Behold thy God!” cried the voice.

But the man saw no one but the man like unto himself out of which the voice sounded.

“No one see I but myself,” he cried. “And well I know that I am a poor man without power.”

Then did the voice laugh in exceeding gladness, “Behold thou thy God!”

Upon hearing this, the rich man saw the glory of the Risen Man flow like a light into that body that was his; and he saw a hand that stretched forth and set him over and above the city of his idolatry. And he saw that world of storied cities stretched above his city, and within those cities were wondrous riches and heaped up treasures that shone bright, the extent of which he had no knowledge.

And within those cities walked men and women and little children like as in his city, and they were all going in the same direction and seemed bound upon the same errand. And as he watched to see whereto they were tending, behold the father gate of the city opened, and there rode into the city a man on a white horse that raised his feet as if proud of the rider he carried.

Then through the city swept a wind, a wind that winnowed, but no man nor woman nor child of all that talked there were touched by the great stirring.

Then did the rider strike the mane of his white horse with his left hand and there came forth out of the nostrils of the horse a breath that was more powerful than the mighty wind, and everyone in that city felt the breath that went out of the white horse, and each one held his hands before his face, as one holds a cup from which he would drink, and they quaffed from their hands as if they drank.

Then did the rider of the white horse smite the horse upon his thigh and he sprang forward, and the rich man saw him no more. And the city above his city faded from his view, and his own city waxed clearer, and he saw all men and women and children, tending in different directions but all bent on the same errand.