was in itself
agreeable to him. He had always found pleasure in the rustic life, and
of late, at his Asculan villa, had often wished he could abide in quiet
for the rest of his days amid the fields and the vineyards. Working in
the mellow sunlight, above him the soft blue sky of early autumn, and
all around the silence of mountain and of forest, he felt his health
renew itself. When the first drops of sweat stood upon his forehead he
wiped them away with earthy fingers, and the mere action--he knew not
why--gave him pleasure.

But of a sudden he became aware that he had lost something. From the
little finger of his left hand had slipped his signet ring. It must
have fallen since he began working, and anxiously he searched for it
about the ground. Whilst he was thus occupied, Marcus came towards him,
carrying a great basket of vegetables. Not without diffidence, Basil
told what had happened.

'You will rebuke me, holy brother, for heeding such a loss. But the
ring is very old; it has been worn by many of my ancestors, to them it
came, and from one who suffered martyrdom in the times of Diocletian.'

'Then, indeed, I did well,' replied Marcus, 'to leave it on your finger
during your sickness. I looked at it and saw that it was a Christian
seal. Had it been one of those which are yet seen too often, with the
stamp of a daemon, I should have plucked it off, and perhaps have
destroyed it. The ring of a blessed martyr I Let us seek, let us seek!
But, brother Basil,' he added gravely, 'has there passed through your
heart no evil thought? I like not this falling of the ring.'

Basil held up his wasted hand with a smile.

'True, true; you have lost flesh. Be thankful for it, dear brother; so
much the easier you combat with him whose ally is this body of death.
True, the ring may have fallen simply because your finger was so thin.
But be warned, O Basil, against that habit of mind which interprets in
an earthly sense things of divine meaning.'

'I had indeed let my thoughts dwell upon worldliness,' Basil admitted.

The monk smiled a satisfied reproof.

'Even so, even so! And look you! In the moment of your avowal my hand
falls upon the ring.'

Rejoicing together, they inspected it. In the gold was set an onyx,
graven with the monogram of Christ, a wreath, and the motto, 'Vivas in
Deo.' Marcus knelt, and pressed the seal to his forehead, murmuring
ecstatically:

'The ring of a blessed martyr!'

'I am all unworthy to