her hapless parent. She knew full well the meaning of the deep lines
that marked his lips and brow; for Porphyrius had never made any secret
of his distress and vexation whenever he found himself compelled to
confess a creed in which he did not honestly believe. This great
falsehood and constant duplicity, this divided allegiance to two masters,
had poisoned the existence of a man by nature truthful; and Gorgo knew
for whose sake and for what reasons he had subjected himself to this
moral martyrdom. It was a lesson to her to see him lying there, and his
look of anguish warned her to become, heart and soul, a Christian as she
felt prompted. She would confess Christ for love's sake-aye, for love's
sake; for in this hour the thing she saw most clearly in the faith which
she purposed to adopt, and of which Constantine had so often spoken to
her with affectionate enthusiasm, was Everlasting Love.

Never in her life had she felt so much at peace, so open to all that was
good and beautiful; and yet, outside, the strife grew louder and more
furious; the Imperial tuba sounded above the battle-cry of the heathen,
and the uproar of the struggle came nearer and nearer.

The battering-ram had made a large breach in the southern wall, and,
protected by their shed, the heavy-armed infantry of the twenty-second
legion had forced their way up; but many a veteran had paid for his
rashness with his life, for the storming party had been met by a perfect
shower of arrows and javelins. Still, the great shield had turned many a
spear, and many an arrow had glanced harmless from the brazen armor and
helmets; the men that had escaped pressed onwards, while fresh ranks of
soldiers made their way in, over the bodies of the fallen. The well-
drilled foe came creeping up to the barricade on their knees, and
protected by bronze bucklers, while others, in the rear, flung lances and
arrows over their heads at the besieged. A few of the heathen fell, and