"_De irâ_" he rejoined, fervently; "ay, plucked from God's ire and
called to Christ's mercy. And what is the name of their king?"

"Ella," was the answer.

"Alleluia shall be sung there!" cried the enthusiastic young monk, his
imagination touched by the significance of these answers. He passed on,
musing on the incident which had deeply stirred his sympathies, and
considering how the light of Christianity could be shed upon the pagan
lands whence these fair strangers came.

It was a striking picture which surrounded that slave-market. From where
the young deacon stood could be seen the capitol of ancient Rome and the
grand proportions of its mighty Coliseum; not far away the temple of
Jupiter Stator displayed its magnificent columns, and other stately
edifices of the imperial city came within the circle of vision. Rome had
ceased to be the mistress of the world, but it was not yet in ruins, and
many of its noble edifices still stood almost in perfection. But
paganism had vanished. The cross of Christ was the dominant symbol. The
march of the warriors of the legions was replaced by long processions
of cowled and solemn monks. The temporal imperialism of Rome had
ceased, the spiritual had begun; instead of armies to bring the world
under the dominion of the sword, that ancient city now sent out its
legions of priests to bring it under the dominion of the cross.

Gregory resolved to be one of the latter. A fair new field for
missionary labor lay in that distant island, peopled by pagans whose
aspect promised to make them noble subjects of Christ's kingdom upon
earth. The enthusiastic youth left Rome to seek Saxon England, moved
thereto not by desire of earthly glory, but of heavenly reward. But this