ght
but carelessly; his hard-set brows betokened another subject of
disquiet. Should he, after Aletrium, go down again to the Latin Way, or
should he push a few miles further to the valley of the Liris, and to
his own villa?

To-day, being the first day of the week, there was a gathering to hear
mass. Marcian, though he had that in his mind which little accorded
with religious worship, felt himself drawn to the little church, and
knelt among the toil-worn folk. Here, as always when he heard the
liturgy, his heart melted, his soul was overcome with awe. From
earliest childhood he had cherished a peculiar love and reverence for
the Eucharistic prayer, which was associated with his noblest feelings,
his purest aspirations. As he heard it now, here amid the solitude of
the hills, it brought him help such as he needed.

'Vere dignum et justum est, aequum et salutare, nos tibi semper et
ubique gratias agere, Domine sancte, Pater omnipotens, aeterne Deus.'

When at the end he rose, these words were still resonant within him. He
turned to go forth, and there behind, also just risen from her knees,
stood a veiled woman, at the sight of whom he thrilled with
astonishment. No peasant she; for her attire, though but little
adorned, told of refinement, and the grace of her figure, the simple
dignity of her attitude, would alone have marked her out among the
girls and women who were leaving the church, their eyes all turned upon
her and on the female attendant standing respectfully near. Through the
veil which covered her face and hung about her shoulders, Marcian could
dimly discern lips and eyebrows.

'Lord Marcian, may I speak with you?'

It was the voice of last night, and again it shook him with an ecstasy
which had more of dread than of joy.

'You here?' he replied, speaking very low. 'You have heard the mass?'

'I am a Catholic. My religion is that of Basil.'

'God be thanked!' broke from Marcian. And his exclamation meant more
than it conveyed to the listener.

'May you tell me whither we are going?' was the next question from the
veiled lips.

The church was now empty, but in the doorway appeared faces curiously
peering. Marcian looking in that direction seemed for a moment to find
no reply; his lips were parted, and his breath came rapidly; then he
whispered:

'Not far from here there is a villa. There you shall rest in safety
until Basil comes.'

'He is near?'

'Already I have summoned him.'

'O kind Ma