into your confidence."

"But she will hear all about it, only not immediately," replied Mary.
"And the day after to-morrow, when she knows what I have gone off for
and that you are with me, she will praise us and bless us; yes, she
will, as surely as I hope that the Almighty will succor us in our
journey!"

At these words, which evidently came from the very depths of her heart,
the Masdakite's resistance altogether gave way--just in time, for their
walk was at an end, and they both felt as though the long distance had
been covered by quite a few steps. They had passed close to several
groups of noisy and quarrelsome citizens, and many a funeral train had
borne the plague-stricken dead to the grave by torchlight under their
very eyes, but they had heeded none of these things.

It was not till they reached the garden-gate that they observed what
was going on around them. There they found the gardener and all the
household, anxiously watching for the return of their belated mistress.
Eudoxia too was waiting for them with some alarm. In the house they were
met by Horapollo, but Joanna and Pulcheria returned his greeting with
a cold bow, while Mary purposely turned her back on him. The old man
shrugged his shoulders with regretful annoyance, and in the solitude of
his own room he muttered to himself:

"Oh, that woman! She will be the ruin even of the peaceful days I hoped
to enjoy during the short remainder of my life!"

The widow and her daughter for some time sat talking of Mary. She
had bid them good-night as devotedly and tenderly as though they were
parting for life. Poor child! She had forebodings of the terrible fate
to which the bishop, and perhaps her own mother had predestined her.

But Mary did not look as if she were going to meet misfortune; Eudoxia,
who slept by her side, was rejoiced on the contrary at seeing her so
gay; only she was surprised to see the child, who usually fell asleep
as soon as her little head was on the pillow, lying awake so long
this evening. The elderly Greek, who suffered from a variety of little
ailments and always went to sleep late, could not help watching the
little girl's movements.

What was that? Between midnight and dawn Mary sprang from her bed, threw
on her clothes, and stole into the next room with the night-lamp in her
hand. Presently a brighter light shone through the door-way. She must
have lighted a lamp,-and presently, hearing the door of the sitting-room
opened,