So I must fly quickly, before the sun rises, to bring the good news to those happy men who have been chosen to receive them."
As he said this, the young angel rose, with arms outspread, from the green meadow of Peacefield and, passing over the bounds of Heaven, dropped swiftly as a shooting-star toward the night shadow of the Earth. The other angels followed him--a throng of dazzling forms, beautiful as a rain of jewels falling from the dark-blue sky. But the child-angel went more swiftly than the others, because of the certainty of gladness in his heart.
And as the others followed him they wondered who had been favoured and chosen to receive the glad tidings.
"It must be the Emperor of the World and his counsellors," they thought. But the flight passed over Rome.
"It may be the philosophers and the masters of learning," they thought. But the flight passed over Athens.
"Can it be the High Priest of the Jews, and the elders and the scribes?" they thought. But the flight passed over Jerusalem.
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