such an
outbreak as hitherto would undoubtedly have led Eudoxia to request her
dismissal, with sharp recrimination; but she took it all calmly.

It was not till noon-day--when the bishop made his appearance to carry
the child off to the convent, and was highly wrathful at Mary's
disappearance, threatening the widow, and declaring that he would search
the whole country through for the little girl and find her at last, that
Eudoxia felt that the moment of her triumph had come. She quietly allowed
the bishop to depart, and then only did she send her last and best shaft
at Joanna by informing her that she had in fact encouraged the child in
her exploit on purpose to save her from the cloister. Her newly-found
motherly feeling made her eloquent, and with a result that she had almost
ceased to hope for: the warm-hearted little woman, who had hurt her with
such cruel words, threw her arms round Eudoxia's tall, meagre figure, put
up her face to kiss her, called her a brave, clever girl, and begged her
forgiveness for all she had said and done the day before.

So, when the Greek went to bed, she felt as if her life had turned
backwards and she had grown more like the happy young creature she had
once been with her sisters in her parents' house.

CHAPTER XXIII.

Paula now understood what hung over her. It is Bishop John who had told
her, as gently as he could, and with every assurance that he still clung
to the hope that he could stop the hideous heathen abomination; but even
without this she would certainly have known what was impending, for large
crowds of people gathered every day under the prisonwalls, and loud cries
reached her, demanding to see the "Bride of the Nile."

Now and again shouts of "Hail!" came up to her; but when the demented
creatures had shrieked themselves hoarse, and in vain, they would abuse
her vilely. The cry for the "Bride" never ceased from morning till night,
and the head warder of the prison was glad that the bishop had relieved
him of the task of explaining to Paula the meaning of the fateful word,
whose significance she had repeatedly asked him.

At first this fresh and terrible peril had startled and shaken her; but
she did her utmost to cling to the hope held out by the bishop so as to
appear calm, and as far as possible cheerful, in her sick father's
presence. And in this she succeeded so long as it was day; but at night
she was a prey to agonizing terrors. Then, in fancy she saw her