'Baptized?' asked she, hardly understanding the term.

'Yes-by the bishop-in the church.'

'Ah,' she said, 'I remember now.... When I was four or five years odd.... A tank, and women undressing.... And I was bathed too, and an old man dipped my head under the water three times.... I have forgotten what it all meant-it was so long ago. I wore a white dress, I know, afterwards.'

Philammon recoiled with a groan.

'Unhappy child! May G.o.d have mercy on you!'

'Will He not forgive me, then? You have forgiven me. He?-He must be more good even than you.-Why not?'

'He forgave you then, freely, when you were baptized: and there is no second pardon unless-

'Unless I leave my love!' shrieked Pelagia.

'When the Lord forgave the blessed Magdalene freely, and told her that her faith had saved her-did she live on in sin, or even in the pleasures of this world? No! though G.o.d had forgiven her, she could not forgive herself. She fled forth into the desert, and there, naked and barefoot, clothed only with her hair, and feeding on the herb of the field, she stayed fasting and praying till her dying day, never seeing the face of man, but visited and comforted by angels and archangels. And if she, she who never fell again, needed that long penance to work out her own salvation-oh, Pelagia, what will not G.o.d require of you, who have broken your baptismal vows, and defiled the white robes, which the tears of penance only can wash clean once more?'

'But I did not know! I did not ask to be baptized! Cruel, cruel parents, to bring me to it! And G.o.d! Oh, why did He forgive me so soon? And to go into the deserts! I dare not! I cannot! See me, how dedicate and tender I am! I should die of hunger and cold! I should go mad with fear and loneliness! Oh! brother, brother, is this the Gospel of the Christians? I came to you to be taught how to be wise, and good, and respected, and you tell me that all I can do is to live this horrible life of torture here, on the chance of escaping torture forever! And how do I know that I shall escape it? How do I know that I shall make myself miserable enough? How do I know that He will forgive me after all? Is this true, Miriam? Tell me, or I shall go mad!'

'Yes,' said Miriam, with a quiet sneer. 'This is the gospel and good news of salvation, according to the doctrine of the Nazarenes.'

'I will go with you!' cried Philammon. 'I will go! I will never leave you! I have my own sins to wash away!-Happy for me if I ever do it!-And I will build you a cell near mine, and kind men will teach us, and the will pray together night and morning, for ourselves and for each other, and weep out our weary lives together-'

'Better end them here, at once!' said Pelagia, with a gesture of despair, and dashed herself down on the floor.

Philammon was about to lift her up, when Miriam caught him by the arm, and in a hurried whisper-'Are you mad? Will you ruin your own purpose? Why did you tell her this? Why did you not wait-give her hope-time to collect herself-time to wean herself from her lover, instead of terrifying and disgusting her at the outset, as you have done? Have you a man's heart in you? No word of comfort for that poor creature, nothing but h.e.l.l, h.e.l.l, h.e.l.l-See to your own chance of h.e.l.l first! It is greater than you fancy!'

'It cannot be greater than I fancy!'

'Then see to it. For her, poor darling!-why, even we Jews, who know that all you Gentiles are doomed to Gehenna alike, have some sort of hope for such a poor untaught creature as that.'

'And why is she untaught? Wretch that you are. You have had the training of her! You brought her up to sin and shame! You drove from her recollection the faith in which she was baptized!'

'So much the better for her, if the recollection of it is to make her no happier than it does already. Better to wake unexpectedly in Gehenna when you die, than to endure over and above the dread of it here. And as for leaving her untaught, on your own showing she has been taught too much already. Wiser it would be in you to curse your parents for having had her baptized, than me for giving her ten years' pleasure before she goes to the pit of Tophet. Come now, don't be angry with me. The old Jewess is your friend, revile her as you will. She shall marry this Goth.'

'An Arian heretic!'

'She shall convert him and make a Catholic of him, if you like. At all events, if you wish to win her, you must win her my way. You have had your chance, and spoiled it. Let me have mine. Pelagia, darling! Up, and be a woman! We will find a philtre downstairs to give that ungrateful man, that shall make him more mad about you, before a day is over, than ever you were about him.'

'No!' said Pelagia, looking up. 'No love-potions! No poisons!'

'Poisons, little fool! Do you doubt the old woman's skill? Do you think I shall make him lose his wits, as Callisphyra did to her lover last year, because she would trust to old Megaera's drugs, instead of coming to me!'

'No! No drugs; no magic! He must love me really, or not at all! He must love me for myself, because I am worth loving, because he honours, worships me, or let me die. I, whose boast was, even when I was basest, that I never needed such mean tricks, but conquered like Aphrodite, a queen in my own right! I have been my own love-charm: when I cease to be that, let me die!'

'One as mad as the other!' cried Miriam, in utter perplexity. 'Hist! what is that tramp upon the stairs?'

At this moment heavy footsteps were heard ascending the stairs.... All three stopped aghast: Philammon, because he thought the visitors were monks in search of him; Miriam, because she thought they were Orestes's guards in search of her; and Pelagia, from vague dread of anything and everything....

'Have you an inner room?' asked the Jewess.

'None.'

The old woman set her lips firmly, and drew her dagger. Pelagia wrapped her face in her cloak, and stood trembling, bowed down, as if expecting another blow. The door opened, and in walked, neither monks nor guard, but Wulf and Smid.

'Heyday, young monk!' cried the latter worthy, with a loud laugh-'Veils here, too, eh? At your old trade, my worthy portress of h.e.l.l-gate? Well, walk out now; we have a little business with this young gentleman.'

And slipping past the unsuspecting Goths, Pelagia and Miriam hurried downstairs.

'The young one, at least, seems a little ashamed of her errand.... Now, Wulf, speak low; and I will see that no one is listening at the door.'

Philammon faced his unexpected visitors with a look of angry inquiry. What right had they, or any man, to intrude at such a moment on his misery and disgrace?.... But he was disarmed the next instant by old Wulf, who advanced to him, and looking him fully in the face with an expression which there was no mistaking, held out his broad, brown hand.

Philammon grasped it, and then covering his face with his hands, burst into tears.

'You did right. You are a brave boy. If you had died, no man need have been ashamed to die your death.'

'You were there, then?' sobbed Philammon.

'We were.'

'And what is more,' said Smid, as the poor boy writhed at the admission, 'we were mightily minded, some of us, to have leapt down to you and cut you a pa.s.sage out. One man, at least, whom I know of, felt his old blood as hot for the minute as a four-year-old's. The foul curs! And to hoot her, after all! Oh that I may have one good hour's hewing at them before I die!'

'And you shall!' said Wulf. 'Boy, you wish to get this sister of yours into your power?'

'It is hopeless-hopeless! She will never leave her-the Amal.'

'Are you so sure of that?'

'She told me so with her own lips not ten minutes ago. That was she who went out as you entered!'

A curse of astonishment and regret burst from Smid....

'Had I but known her! By the soul of my fathers, she should have found that it was easier to come here than to go home again!'

'Hush, Smid! Better as it is. Boy, if I put her into your power, dare you carry her off?'

Philammon hesitated one moment.

'What I dare you know already. But it would be an unlawful thing, surely, to use violence.'

'Settle your philosopher's doubts for yourself. I have made my offer. I should have thought that a man in his senses could give but one answer, much more a mad monk.'

'You forget the money matters, prince,' said Smid, with a smile.

'I do not. But I don't think the boy so mean as to hesitate on that account.'

'He may as well know, however, that we promise to send all her trumpery after her, even to the Amal's presents. As for the house, we won't trouble her to lend it us longer than we can help. We intend shortly to move into more extensive premises, and open business on a grander scale, as the shopkeepers say,-eh, prince?'