Marthana. "No, no; you stay here with your
mother."

"And do you think that I can wait here?" asked Dorothea. "I am going with
you."

"There is much here for you to do," replied Petrus evasively, "and we
must climb the hill quickly."

"I should certainly delay you," sighed the mother, "but take the girl
with you; she has a light and lucky hand."

"If you think it best," said the senator, and he left the room.

While the mother and daughter prepared everything for the
night-expedition, and came and went, they found time to put many
questions and say many affectionate words to Sirona. Marthana, even
without interrupting her work, set food and drink for the weary woman on
the table by which she had sunk on a seat; but she hardly moistened her
lips.

When the young girl showed her the basket that she had filled with
medicine and linen bandages, with wine and pure water, Sirona said, "Now
lend me a pair of your strongest sandals, for mine are all torn, and I
cannot follow the men without shoes, for the stones are sharp, and cut
into the flesh."

Marthana now perceived for the first time the blood on her friend's feet,
she quickly took the lamp from the table and placed it on the pavement,
exclaiming, as she knelt down in front of Sirona and took her slender
white feet in her hand to look at the wounds on the soles, "Good heavens!
here are three deep cuts!"

In a moment she had a basin at hand, and was carefully bathing the wounds
in Sirona's feet; while she was wrapping the injured foot in strips of
linen Dorothea came up to them.

"I would," she said, "that Polykarp were only here now, this roll would
suffice to bind you both." A faint flush overspread Sirona's cheeks, but
Dorothea was suddenly conscious of what she had said, and Marthana gently
pressed her friend's hand.

When the bandage was securely fixed, Sirona attempted to walk, but she
succeeded so badly that Petrus, who now came back with his friend Magadon
and his sons, and several slaves, found it necessary to strictly forbid
her to accompany them. He felt sure of finding his son without her, for
one of Magadon's people had often carried bread and oil to old Serapion
and knew his cave.

Before the senator and his daughter left the room he whispered a few
words to his wife, and together they went up to Sirona.

"Do you know," he asked, "what has happened to your husband?"

Sirona nodded. "I heard it from Paulus," she answered. "Now I am quite
alon