attractive in it. Moreover, about the
main point there was no mystery, and could be no mistake, that he was in
the hands of a Christian ecclesiastic.

The stranger occupied himself for a time with a book of prayers which he
carried about him, and then again with the duties of a sick-bed. He
sprinkled vinegar over Agellius's face and about the room, and supplied
him with the refreshment of cooling fruit. He kept the flies from
tormenting him, and did his best so to arrange his posture that he might
suffer least from his long lying. In the morning and evening he let in the
air, and he excluded the sultry noon. In these various occupations he was
from time to time removed to a distance from the patient, who thus had an
opportunity of observing him. The stranger was of middle height, upright,
and well proportioned; he was dressed in a peasant's or slave's dark
tunic. His face was rather round than long; his hair black, yet with the
promise of greyness, with what might be baldness in the crown, or a
priest's tonsure. His short beard curled round his chin; his complexion
was very clear. But the most striking point about him was his eyes; they
were of a light or greyish blue, transparent, and shining like precious
stones.

From the day that they first interchanged words, the priest said some
short prayers from time to time with Agellius--the Lord's Prayer, and
portions of the Psalms. Afterwards, when he was well enough to converse,
Agellius was struck with the inexpressible peculiarity of his manner. It
was self-collected, serene, gentle, tender, unobtrusive, unstudied. It
enabled him to say things severe and even stern, without startling,
offending, or repelling the hearer. He spoke very little about himself,
though from time to time points of detail were elicited of his history in
the course of conversation. He said that his name was Caecilius. Asper,
when he entered the room, would kneel down and offer to kiss the
stranger's sandal, though the latter generally managed to prevent it.

Caecilius did not speak much about himself; but Agellius, on the other
hand, found it a relief to tell out his own history, and reflect upon and
describe his own feelings. As he lay on his bed, he half soliloquized,
half addressed himself to the stranger. Sometimes he required an answer;
sometimes he seemed to require none. Once he asked suddenly, after a long
silence, whether a man could be baptized twice; and when the priest
answered distin