neither
peace, nor help, nor hope; nothing but black, blank, stupid terror and
despair. The little weak infant soul, which had just awakened in her,
had been crushed and stunned in its very birth-hour; and instinctively
she crept away to the roof of the tower where her apartments were, to
sit and weep alone.

There she sat, hour after hour, beneath the shade of the large windsail,
which served in all Alexandrian houses the double purpose of a shelter
from the sun and a ventilator for the rooms below; and her eye roved
carelessly over that endless sea of roofs and towers, and masts, and
glittering canals, and gliding boats; but she saw none of them--nothing
but one beloved face, lost, lost for ever.

At last a low whistle roused her from her dream. She looked up.
Across the narrow lane, from one of the embrasures of the opposite
house-parapet bright eyes were peering at her. She moved angrily to
escape them.

The whistle was repeated, and a head rose cautiously above the
parapet.... It was Miriam's. Casting a careful look around, Pelagia went
forward. What could the old woman want with her?

Miriam made interrogative signs, which Pelagia understood as asking her
whether she was alone; and the moment that an answer in the negative was
returned, Miriam rose, tossed over to her feet a letter weighted with a
pebble, and then vanished again.

'I have watched here all day! They refused me admittance below. Beware
of Wulf, of every one. Do not stir from your chamber. There is a plot
to carry you off to-night, and give you up to your brother the monk; you
are betrayed; be brave!'

Pelagia read it with blanching cheek and staring eyes; and took, at
least, the last part of Miriam's advice. For walking down the stair, she
passed proudly through her own rooms, and commanding back the girls who
would have stayed her, with a voice and gesture at which they quailed,
went straight down, the letter in her hand, to the apartment where the
Amal usually spent his mid-day hours.

As she approached the door, she heard loud voices within.... His!--yes;
but Wulf's also. Her heart failed her, and she stopped a moment to
listen.... She heard Hypatia's name; and mad with curiosity, crouched
down at the lock, and hearkened to every word.

'She will not accept me, Wulf.'

'If she will not, she shall go farther and fare worse. Besides, I tell
you, she is hard run. It is her last chance, and she will jump at it.
The Christians are mad with