ng in. How often already has Death laid his hand on our shoulder, every
breath we draw is a boon of mercy--the extra length given in by the
weaver, the hour of grace granted by the hangman to his victim! Our lives
are no longer our own, a borrowed purse with damaged copper coins. The
hard-hearted creditor has already bent his knuckles, and when he knocks
the time is up. Once more let us have one hour of pure and perfect
enjoyment, and then we will pay up capital and interest when we must."

"It cannot and will not be yet," said Herse resolutely, but she wiped her
eyes with her band. "If Agne sings even, so long as she does it without
coercion and of her own free-will no Bishop can punish us."

"He cannot, he dare not!" cried the old man. There are still laws and
judges."

"And Gorgo's family is influential as well as rich. Porphyrius has power
to protect us, and you do not yet know what a fancy he has taken to us.
Ask mother."

"It is like a story," Herse put in. "Before we left, the old lady--she
must be eighty or more--took me aside and asked me where we were lodging.
I told her at the Widow Mary's and when she heard it she struck her
crutch on the floor. 'Do you like the place?' she asked. I told her not
at all, and said we could not possibly stop here."

"Quite right!" cried Karnis. "The monks in the court-yard will kill us as
dead as rats if they hear us learning heathen hymns."

"That is what I told her; but the old lady did not allow me to finish;
she drew me close to her and whispered, 'only do as my granddaughter
wishes and you shall be safely housed and take this for the present'--and
she put her hand into the purse at her girdle, gave the gold into my
hand, and added loud enough for the others to hear: 'Fifty gold pieces
out of my own pocket if Gorgo tells me that she is satisfied with your
performance.'"

"Fifty gold pieces!" cried Karnis clasping his hands. "That brightens up
the dull grey of existence. Fifty, then, are certain. If we sing six
times that makes a talent--[estimated in 1880 at $1100]--and that will
buy back our old vineyard at Leontium. I will repair the old Odeum--they
have made a cowhouse of it--and when we sing there the monks may come and
listen! You laugh? But you are simpletons--I should like to see who will
forbid my singing on my own land and in my own country. A talent of gold!

"It is quite enough to pay on account, and I will not agree to any
bargain that will not give me t