the Golden Horn, where the merchant ships are moored. But now, Leon, if
you follow the line of buildings past the great church, you will see a
long row of pillars fronting the sea. It marks the Palace of the
Caesars."

The boy looked at it with fixed attention. "And my mother is there," he
whispered.

"Yes, Leon, your mother the Empress Theodora and her husband the great
Justinian dwell in yonder palace."

The boy looked wistfully up into the old man's face.

"Are you sure, Father Luke, that my mother will indeed be glad to see
me?"

The abbot turned away his face to avoid those questioning eyes.

"We cannot tell, Leon. We can only try. If it should prove that there
is no place for you, then there is always a welcome among the brethren
of Saint Nicephorus."

"Why did you not tell my mother that we were coming, Father Luke?
Why did you not wait until you had her command?"

"At a distance, Leon, it would be easy to refuse you. An Imperial
messenger would have stopped us. But when she sees you, Leon--your
eyes, so like her own, your face, which carries memories of one whom she
loved--then, if there be a woman's heart within her bosom, she will take
you into it. They say that the Emperor can refuse her nothing.