color of flame. She moved unheard across
the pavement of the place of sanctuary; unheard she pushed open the
little golden wicket in the golden railing; unheard she noted the white
rose where it lay upon the ground, and, picking it up, lifted it to her
lips before she placed it in her girdle; unheard she moved to where
Robert lay in his agony before the altar.

"Friend," she whispered, softly.

Robert's consciousness awoke from its dark dreams. He rose and faced the
girl, naming her name with joy.

"Perpetua!"

Perpetua came close to him.

"You have been abroad. Have you any news of my father?"

Robert shook his head.

"He is still kept close in the palace; his sword is still idle. The King
has doomed many to death, but it seems that none shall die until the
fool dies--and they cannot find the fool," he added, with a grim laugh.

Perpetua looked at him with sad affection and said, earnestly, "I wish
you would fly from Sicily."

Robert answered her as earnestly, "I wish you would fly from Sicily."

"I will not leave my father."

"I will not leave you in danger."

Perpetua, smiling, gently chided. "All men live in danger through each
second of each minute. I do not know the color of fear."

Robert drew a little nearer to her and spoke with a warning voice.

"I fear for you. This morning I saw in the market-place one of the women
of Lycabetta. She did not see me, but to see her renewed my fear. If
danger should come here ring at this bell," and he pointed to the great
rope on the column by the altar. "It was set here by King Robert the
Good, that any man having cause of complaint against the King might ring
it and rouse all Syracuse to sit in judgment between sovereign and
subject. In all his reign no hand ever tugged at that cord."

Perpetua looked at it sadly. "Every hand in Syracuse might itch to clasp
it in the reign of Robert the Bad."

There were tears in Robert's eyes as he echoed her.

"Robert the Bad. You might have loved him," he said, after a short
silence.

Perpetua turned away, for now there were tears in her eyes. "Oh, I know
nothing of love," she said.

Robert saw her sadness and combated his own to cheer her. "Is it not
strange," he asked, "your loveliness knows nothing of love while my
unloveliness is cunning in love-wisdom? Year in and year out I have
watched the world a-wooing--shepherd and shepherdess under the hawthorn
hedge, knight and dame in the rose-bower, king and queen on