tself void. I do not agree with them. If thou thinkest it sin to break
thine oath, to thee it is sin. And for thee, my poor child, thy promise
is sacred, were it made to Iscariot himself. But hear me. Can either of
you, by asking this woman, be so far absolved as to give me speech of
her? Tell her--that is, if she be in Alexandria, which God grant--all
that has passed between us here, and tell her, on the solemn oath of a
Christian, that Arsenius, whose name she knows well, will neither injure
nor betray her. Will you do this?'

'Arsenius?' said the little porter, with a look of mingled awe and pity.

The old man smiled. 'Arsenius, who was once called the Father of the
Emperors. Even she will trust that name.'

'I will go this moment' sir; I will fly!' and off rushed the little
porter.

'The little fellow forgets,' said Arsenius, with a smile, 'to how much
he has confessed already, and how easy it were now to trace him to the
old hag's lair.... Philammon, my son.... I have many tears to weep over
thee--but they must wait a while, I have thee safe now,' and the old man
clutched his arm. 'Thou wilt not leave thy poor old father? Thou wilt
not desert me for the heathen woman?'

'I will stay with you, I promise you, indeed! if--if you will not say
unjust things of her.'

'I will speak evil of no one, accuse no one, but myself. I will not say
one harsh word to thee, my poor boy. But listen now! Thou knowest that
thou camest from Athens. Knowest thou that it was I who brought thee
hither?'

'You?'

'I, my son: but when I brought thee to the Laura, it seemed right that
thou, as the son of a noble gentleman, shouldest hear nothing of it.
But tell me: dost thou recollect father or mother, brother or sister; or
anything of thy home in Athens?'

'No.'

'Thanks be to God. But, Philammon, if thou hadst had a sister-hush! And
if--I only say if--,

'A sister!' interrupted Philammon. 'Pelagia?'

'God forbid, my son! But a sister thou hadst once--some three years
older than thee she seemed.'

'What! did you know her?'

'I saw her but once--on one sad day.--Poor children both! I will not
sadden you by telling you where and how.'

'And why did you not bring her hither with me? You surely had not the
heart to part us?'

'Ah, my son, what right had an old monk with a fair young girl? And,
indeed, even had I had the courage, it would have been impossible. There
were others, richer than I, to whose covetousness her youth