e man!"

"I know thee all divine. I have worshipped thee in joy. Art thou not
Messiah?"

"Messiah! Who cannot save myself!"

"Who can hurt thee? Who hath ever hurt thee from thy youth up? The
Angels watch over thy footsteps. Is not thy life one long miracle?"

He shook his head hopelessly. "All this year I have waited the
miracle--all those weary months in the dungeon of Constantinople, in
the Castle of Abydos--but what sure voice hath spoken? To-morrow I
shall be disembowelled, lashed with fiery scourges--who knows what
these dogs may do?"

"Hush! hush!"

"Ah, thou fearest for me!" he cried, in perverse triumph. "Thou
knowest I am but mortal man!"

The roses of her beautiful cheek had faded, but she spoke,
unflinching.

"Nay, I believe on thee still. I followed thee to thy prison,
unwitting it would turn into a palace. I follow thee to thy torture
to-morrow, trusting it will be the crowning miracle and the fiery
scourges will turn into angels' feathers. It is the word of Zechariah
fulfilled. 'In that day will I make the governors of Judah like an
hearth of fire among the wood, and like a torch of fire in a sheaf.'"

His eyes grew humid as he looked up at her. "Yea, Melisselda, thou
hast been true and of good courage. And now, when I am alone, when the
shouts of the faithful have died away, when the King of the World lies
here alone in darkness and ashes, thou hast faith still?"

"Ay, I believe--'tis but a trial, the final trial of my faith."

She smiled at him confidently; hope quickened within him. "If this
were but a trial, the final trial of _my_ faith!" he murmured. "But
no--ere that white strip of moon rises again in the heavens I shall be
a mangled corpse, the feast of wolves, unless--I have prayed for a
sign--oh, how I have prayed, and now--ah, see! A star is falling. O my
God, that this should be the end of my long martyrdom! But the
punishment of my arrogance is greater than I can bear. God, God, why
didst Thou send me those divine-seeming whispers, those long, long
thoughts that thrilled my soul? Why didst Thou show me the sin of
Israel and his suffering, the sorrow and evil of the world, inspiring
me to redeem and regenerate?" His breast swelled with hysteric sobs.

"My Sabbatai!" Melisselda's warm arms were round him. He threw her off
with violence. "Back, back!" he cried. "I understand the sign; I
understand at last. 'Tis through thee that I have forfeited the divine
grace."

"Through me?