calmly, for I want only men's arms and legs and do not ask for their
souls; but to burn down the old house before you have collected wood and
stone to build a new one I call wicked.--It is cruelty and madness, and
when so shrewd a woman as your mother is bent on carrying through such a
measure, come what may, there is something more behind it."

"You think she wants to get rid of you--you, Demetrius!" interrupted
Marcus eagerly. "But you are mistaken, you are altogether wrong. What
you have done for the estate . . ."

"Oh! as for that!" cried the other, "what has my work to do with all
this? Ere the year is out everything that can remind us of the heathen
gods is to be swept away from the hamlets and fields of the pious Mary.
That is what is intended! Then they will hurry off to the Bishop with
the great news and to crown one marvel with another, the reversion will
be secured of a martyr's nimbus. And this is what all this zeal is for
--this and nothing else!"

"You are speaking of my mother, remember!" cried Marcus, looking at his
brother with a touching appeal in his eyes. Demetrius shook his shaggy
head and spoke more temperately as he went on:

"Yes, child, I had forgotten that--and I may be mistaken of course, for I
am no more than human. Here one thing follows so close on another, and
in this house I feel so battered and storm-tossed, that I hardly know
myself. But old Phabis tells me that steps are being seriously taken to
procure the title of Martyr for our father Apelles."

"My mother is quite convinced that he died for the faith, and she loved
him devotedly . . ."