guidance, leading the
little boy, she hurried forward, not knowing whither. All she thought was
to get away--far away from these men who were trying to imperil her
immortal soul.

She knew that Karnis had actually bought her, and that she was,
therefore, his property and chattel. Even Christian doctrine taught her
that the slave must obey his master; but she could not feel like a slave,
and if indeed she were one her owner might destroy and kill her body, but
not her soul. The law, however, was on the side of Karnis, and it allowed
him to pursue her and cast her into prison. This idea haunted her, and
for fear of being caught she avoided all the chief thoroughfares and kept
close to the houses as she stole through the side streets and alleys.
Once, in Antioch, she had seen a runaway slave, who, having succeeded in
reaching a statue of the Emperor and laying his hand on it, was by that
act safe from his pursuers. There must surely be such a statue somewhere
in Alexandria--but where? A woman, of whom she enquired, directed her
down a wider street that would take her into the Canopic Way. If she
crossed that and went down the first turning to the left she would reach
a large open square in the Bruchium, and there, in front of the Prefect's
residence and by the side of the Bishop's house, stood the new statue of
Theodosius.

This information, and the mention of the Bishop, gave a new course to her
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 bustl