m for
herself, so dear in reincarnating for him the great love and the great
sorrow of his manhood. Only one moon ago their life had been as it had
ever been, tranquil, happy, a companionship of peace and joy. And now
this beloved child, this dear companion, lay a prisoner under the
terrible charge of sorcery, and in the ordeal of battle which was to
decide her fate the only arm that could be found to champion her was her
father's arm, the arm of an old man against the arm of the most
brilliant swordsman in Sicily. Theron remembered with a pang the ease
and grace with which Hildebrand had wielded the great sword of the
headsman on that unhappy morning, and he asked himself, despairingly,
what hope there could be for him against such an adversary.

Out from an archway in the side of the amphitheatre, a dark archway that
opened from the corridor leading to the cells where prisoners used to
be confined, and where Perpetua was now confined, Hieronymus came forth.
He saw Theron where he sat, and advancing towards him rested his hand on
his shoulder and named his name.

Theron looked wearily up and bowed for the benediction of the religious.

"My son," Hieronymus said, gravely, "by trumpet-call, within the hour,
the chafing populace will be admitted into these royal gardens to
witness the ordeal by battle. My son, my son, when your child's voice
cries for a champion to-day, I fear yours will be the only hand raised
to defend her."

"They fear her for a witch," Theron answered, bitterly; "as if such
golden goodness could go to the making of witch-flesh. Men are
fools--men are devils."

"Be brave, be patient," Hieronymus exhorted. "Courage and patience are
the harness of a soldier of God."

Theron made a gesture of impatience. "You have every man and woman in
Syracuse for son and daughter. She is my only child. How is she?"

"Smiling like a bride," Hieronymus replied. "Never since the heathen
built these walls did any martyr face her fate more radiantly."

"She is not harshly treated?" Theron asked, anxiously.

Hieronymus shook his head.

"Will they not let me see her?" Theron questioned anew.

"I think they will let you see her by-and-by," Hieronymus answered. "I
have entreated for you. I shall know soon."

Theron gripped his hands tightly together. "I wish I had the King here
at my mercy," he muttered.

Hieronymus raised a reproving hand. "We must forgive our enemies,
though, indeed, such a King is God's enemy