lmed the poor girl; she tried to
free herself and found him quite ready to set her down. When she was
once more on her feet and felt that she could stand she glanced wildly
round her with sudden recollection, and then uttered a hoarse cry, for
her mouth and tongue were parched:

"Christ Jesus! Where is my brother?" She pushed back her hair with a
desperate gesture, pressing her hands to her temples and peering all
round her with a look of fevered misery.

She was still in the square and close to the door of the Prefect's
house; a man on horseback, in all probability her preserver's servant,
was following them, leading his master's horse. On the pavement lay
wounded men groaning with pain; the street of the Caesareum was lined
with a double row of footsoldiers of Papias no sign!

Again she called him, and with such deep anguish in her voice, which was
harsh and shrill with terror, that the young officer looked at her with
extreme compassion.

"Papias, Papias--my little brother! O God my Saviour!--where, where is
the child?"

"We will have him sought for," said the soldier whose voice was gentle
and kind. "You are too young and pretty--what brought you into this
crowd and amid such an uproar?"

She colored deeply and looking down answered low and hurriedly: "I was
going to see the Bishop."

"You chose an evil hour," replied Constantine, for it was he who had
found her lying on the pavement and who had thought it only an act of
mercy not to trust so young and fair a girl to the protection of his
followers. "You may thank God that you have got off so cheaply. Now, I
must return to my men. You know where the Bishop lives? Yes, here. And
with regard to your little brother.... Stay; do you live in Alexandria?"
"No, my lord."

"But you have some relation or friend whom you lodge with?"

"No, my lord. I am... I have... I told you, I only want to see my lord
the Bishop."

"Very strange! Well, take care of yourself. My time is not my own; but
by-and-bye, in a very short time, I will speak to the city watchmen; how
old is the boy?"

"Nearly six."

"And with black hair like yours?"

"No, my lord--fair hair," and as she spoke the tears started to her
eyes. "He has light curly hair and a sweet, pretty little face."

The prefect smiled and nodded. "And if they find him," he went on,
"Papias, you say, is his name where is he to be taken?"

"I do not know, my lord, for--and yet! Oh! my head aches, I cannot
think--if