pressed the young
man's powerless hand to her lips, "If indeed you truly love him, cease
crying and lamenting. He yesterday got a severe wound on his head; I
have washed it, now do you bind it up with care, and keep it constantly
cool with fresh water. You know your way to the spring; when he recovers
his senses rub his feet, and give him some bread and a few drops of the
wine which you will find in the little cellar hard by; there is some oil
there too, which you will need for a light.

"I must go up to the brethren, and if I do not return to-morrow, give
the poor lad over to his mother to nurse. Only tell her this, that I,
Paulus, gave him this wound in a moment of rage, and to forgive me if
she can, she and Petrus. And you too forgive me that in which I have
sinned against you, and if I should fall in the battle which awaits us,
pray that the Lord may not be too hard upon me in the day of judgment,
for my sins are great and many."

At this moment the sound of the trumpets sounded even into the deepest
recess of the cave. Sirona started. "That is the Roman tuba," she
exclaimed. "I know the sound--Phoebicius is coming this way."

"He is doing his duty," replied Paulus. "And still, one thing more. I
saw last night a ring on your hand--an onyx."

"There it lies," said Sirona; and she pointed to the farthest corner of
the cave, where it lay on the dusty soil.

"Let it remain there," Paulus begged of her; he bent over the senseless
man once more to kiss his forehead, raised his hand towards Sirona in
sign of blessing, and rushed out into the open air.

CHAPTER XIX.

Two paths led over the mountain from the oasis to the sea; both followed
deep and stony gorges, one of which was named the "short cut," because
the traveller reached his destination more quickly by that road than by
following the better road in the other ravine, which was practicable for
beasts of burden. Half-way up the height the "short cut" opened out on
a little plateau, whose western side was shut in by a high mass of rock
with steep and precipitous flanks. At the top of this rock stood a tower
built of rough blocks, in which the anchorites were wont to take refuge
when they were threatened with a descent of their foes.

The position of this castle--as the penitents proudly styled their
tower--was well-chosen, for from its summit they commanded not only
the "short cut" to the oasis, but also the narrow shell-strewn strip of
desert which div