obliged to shelter in harbours by the way. Now, short of
food and water, she had come safely to her haven, for which mercy the
bishop Cyril with the Roman Marcus and such other Christians as were
aboard of her gave thanks to Heaven upon their knees in their little
cabin near the forecastle, for it was too late to attempt to land that
night. Then they went on deck and, as all their food was gone and they
had no drink except some stinking water, leaned upon the bulwarks and
looked hungrily towards the shore, where gleamed the thousand lights of
the mighty city. Near to them, not a bowshot away indeed, lay another
ship. Presently, as they stared at her black outline, the sound of
singing floated from her decks across the still, starlit waters of the
harbour. They listened to it idly enough at first, till at length some
words of that song reached their ears, causing them to look at each
other.

"That is no sailor's ditty," said Marcus.

"No," answered Cyril, "it is a Christian hymn, and one that I know well.
Listen. Each verse ends, 'Peace, be still!'"

"Then," said Marcus, "yonder must be a Christian ship, else they would
not dare to sing that hymn. The night is calm, let us beg the boat and
visit it. I am thirsty, and those good folk may have fresh water."

"If you wish," answered Cyril. "There too we may get tidings as well as
water."

A while later the little boat rowed to the side of the strange ship and
asked leave to board of the watchman.

"What sign do you give?" asked the officer.

"The sign of the Cross," answered Cyril. "We have heard your hymn who
are of the brotherhood of Rome."

Then a rope ladder was thrown down to them and the officer bade them
make fast and be welcome.

They climbed upon the deck and went to seek the captain, who was in
the afterpart of the ship, where an awning was stretched. In the space
enclosed by this awning, which was lit with lanterns, stood a woman in
a white robe, who sang the refrain of the hymn in a very sweet voice,
others of the company, from time to time, joining in its choruses.

"From the dead am I arisen" sang the voice, and there was something in
the thrilling notes that went straight to the heart of Marcus, some tone
and quality which were familiar.

Side by side with Cyril he climbed onwards across the rowing benches,
and the noise of their stumbling footsteps reaching the singer's ears,
caused her to pause in her song. Then stepping forward a little, as