And down they all went, the Bishop setting the example. As their heads were
bowed to the earth, Elenko made a sign to Prometheus, and when the
multitude looked up, it beheld him in the act of imparting the episcopal
blessing.

"Tell him that we are all his brethren," said the Bishop, which
announcement became in Elenko's mouth, "Do as I do, and cleave to thy
eagle."

A procession was formed. The new saint, his convert, and the eagle, rode in
a car at the head of it. The Bishop, surrounded by his bodyguard, followed
with the sacred vessels of Apollo, to which he had never ceased to direct a
vigilant eye throughout the whole proceedings. The multitude swarmed along
singing hymns, or contending for the stray feathers of the eagle. The
representatives of seven monasteries put in their claims for the links of
Prometheus's fetters, but the Bishop scouted them all. He found time to
whisper to Elenko:

"You seem a sensible young person. Just hint to our friend that we don't
want to hear anything about his theology, and the less he talks about the
primitive Church the better. No doubt he is a most intelligent man, but he
cannot possibly be up to all the recent improvements."

Elenko promised most fervently that Prometheus' theological sentiments
should remain a mystery to the public. She then began to reflect very
seriously on the subject of her own morals. "This day," she said to
herself, "I have renounced all the Gods, and told lies enough to last me my
life, and for no other reason than that I am in love. If this is a
sufficient reason, lovers must have a different code of morality from the