proceedings. It was wrong to defy and desert her master, but to obey him
would be deadly sin. Which must she choose and which avoid? Only one
person could advise in such a case--only one could relieve her mind of
its difficulties and terrors: The Shepherd of souls in the city--the
Bishop himself. She too was a lamb of his flock; to him and to no one
else could she turn.

This thought fell on her heart like a ray of light dispersing the clouds
of uncertainty and alarm. With a deep breath of relief she took the
child in her arms and told him--for he was whimpering to know where she
was taking him, and why he might not go back to Dada--that they were
going to see a good, kind man who would tell them the way home to their
father and mother. Papias, however, still wailed to go to Dada and not
to the man.

Half insisting and half coaxing him with promises, she dragged him along
as far as the main street. This was full of an excited throng; soldiers
on foot and on horseback were doing what they could to keep the peace,
and the bustle amused the little boy's curiosity so that he soon forgot
his homesickness. When, at length, Ague found the street that led to the
Prefect's house she was fairly carried along by the surging, rushing mob.
To turn was quite impossible; the utmost she could do was to keep her
wits about her, and concentrate her strength so as not to be parted from
the child. Pushed, pulled, squeezed, scolded, and abused by other women
for her folly in bringing a child out into such a crowd, she at last
found herself in the great square. A hideous hubbub of coarse, loud
voices pierced her unaccustomed ears; she could have sunk on the earth
and cried; but she kept up her courage and collected all her energies,
for she saw in the distance a large gilt cross over a lofty doorway. It
was like a greeting and welcome home. Under its protection she would