e Proconsul will listen to you. The
magistrates here are afraid of _him_; _they_ don't wish to touch the poor
girl, not they. But there's such a noise everywhere, and so much ill
blood, and so many spies and informers, and so much mistrust--but why
should it come upon _Callista_? Why should _she_ be a sacrifice? But you'd
oblige the Duumvirs as much as me in getting her out of the scrape. But
what good would it do, if they _took_ her dear life? Only get us the
respite of a month; the delusion would vanish in a month. Get two months,
if you can; or as long as you can, you know. Perhaps they would let us
steal out of the country, and no one the wiser; and no harm to any one. It
was a bad job our coming here."

"We know nothing at Rome of feelings and intentions, and motives and
distinctions," said Cornelius; "and we know nothing of understandings,
connivances, and evasions. We go by facts; Rome goes by facts. The
question is, What is the fact? Does she burn incense, or does she not?
Does she worship the ass, or does she not? However, we'll see what can be
done." And so he went on, informing the pair of mourners that, as far as
his influence extended, he would do something in behalf both of Agellius
and Callista.

CHAPTER XXVII.

AM I A CHRISTIAN?

The sun had now descended for the last time before the solemn day which
was charged with the fate of Callista, and what was the state of mind of
one who excited such keen interest in the narrow circle within which she
was known? And how does it differ from what it was some weeks before, when
Agellius last saw her? She would have been unable to say herself. "So is
the kingdom of God: as if a man should cast seed into the earth, and
should sleep and rise night and day, and the seed should spring and grow
up, whilst he knoweth not." She might, indeed, have been able afterwards,
on looking back, to say many things of herself; and she would have
recognised that while she was continually differing from herself, in that
she was changing, yet it was not a change which involved contrariety, but
one which expanded itself in (as it were) concentric circles, and only
fulfilled, as time went on, the promise of its beginning. Every day, as it
came, was, so to say, the child of the preceding, the parent of that which
followed; and the end to which she tended could not get beyond the aim
with which she set out. Yet, had sh