'Nay,' cried the young man vehemently, 'if I have any thought other
than honest, may I perish before I ever again behold her!'

Aurelia's gaze softened.

'It is well,' she said; 'we will speak again to-morrow.'

That night Petronilla kept vigil in the church of Surrentum, Basil
and Decius relieving her an hour before dawn. At the funeral
service, which began soon after sunrise, the greater part of the
townsfolk attended. All were eager to see whether the daughter of
Maximus would be present, for many rumours were rife touching
Aurelia, some declaring that she had returned to the true faith,
some that she remained obstinate in heresy. Her failure to appear
did not set the debate at rest. A servant of Petronilla whispered it
about that only by a false pretence of conversion had Aurelia made
sure her inheritance; and at the mere thought of such wickedness the
hearers shuddered, foretelling a dread retribution. The clergy were
mute on the subject, even with the most favoured of their flock.
Meanwhile the piety and austerity of Petronilla made a safe topic of
talk, and a long procession reverently escorted her to her temporary
abode near the bishop's house.

To-day the clouds spent themselves in rain; before nightfall the
heavens began to clear. The island peak of Inarime stood purple
against a crimson sunset. After supper, Aurelia and Basil held
conference. The wind would not be favourable for their voyage; none
the less, they decided to start at the earliest possible hour. Dawn
was but just streaking the sky, when they rode down the dark gorge
which led to the shore, Basil attended by Felix, the lady by one