well knew, his faith was something
monstrous in its contempt for beauty--would bear to learn that he, her
lover, was the man who, like some coarse barbarian, had defaced this
noble work and ruined this vision of beauty, no less dear to him than it
was to her. Still, as he sat brooding and searching the very depths of
his soul, he could not help feeling that he had certainly acted rightly
and would do the same again, even at the risk of losing her. To him
Gorgo, was the noblest of God's creatures, and how could he have borne to
go through life at her side with a stain on his honor? But he did not
conceal from himself the fact that his deed had opened a wide gulf
between them; and it was with deep pathos that his thoughts recurred to
the antique conception of tragedy--of fate which pursues its innocent
victims as though they were guilty. This day perhaps would witness the
sunset of his life's joy, would drive him forth once more to war--to
fight, and do nothing but fight, till death should meet him on the
battle-field. And as he sat there his eyes grew dim and heavy and his
head fell on his heaving breast.

Suddenly he felt a light touch on his shoulder, and turning round, he saw
Gorgo standing with her hand outstretched; he started to his feet, seized
it with eager passion and looking sadly into the young girl's eyes said,
with deep emotion:

"I would I might hold this hand forever--but you will leave me, you will
turn from me when I tell you of the deed that mine has done."

"I know it," she said firmly. "And it was a hard task even for you--a
painful duty--was it not?"

"Terrible! horrible!" he exclaimed with a shudder, as he recalled the
feelings of that momentous instant. She looked sympathetically into his
eyes.

"And you did it," she cried, "because you felt that you must and will be
wholly what you profess to be? It is right--the only right; I feel it so.
I will try to imitate you, and rise above the half-heartedness which is
the bane of existence, and which makes the firm path of life a trembling,
swaying bridge. I am yours, wholly yours; I have none other gods but
yours, and for love of you I will learn to love your God--for you have
often and often called him a God of Love."

"And He is a God of Love!" cried Constantine, "and you will know him and
confess him even without teaching; for our Saviour lives in every heart
that is filled with love. Oh! Gorgo, I have destroyed that beautiful
idol, but I will l