t missed a word of this simple dialogue. The woman whose
child was ill at home, and who had come here to pray for strength or
mercy, had a remarkably sweet face; as the girl saw the two friends
bow their heads and fold their hands with downcast eyes, she thought to
herself: "Now they are praying for the sick child..." and involuntarily
she, too, bent her curly head, and murmured softly: "O ye gods, or thou
God of the Christians, or whatever thou art called that hast power over
life and death, make this poor woman's little son well again. When I get
home again I will offer up a cake or a fowl--a lamb is so costly."

And she fancied that some invisible spirit heard her, and it gave her
a vague satisfaction to repeat her simple supplication over and over
again.

Meanwhile a miserable blind dwarf had seated himself by her side; near
him stood the old dog that guided him. He held him by a string and had
been allowed to bring his indispensable comrade into the church. The
old man joined loudly and devoutly in the psalm which the rest of the
congregation were singing; his voice had lost its freshness, no doubt,
but he sang in perfect tune. It was a pleasure to Dada to listen, and
though she only half understood the words of the psalm she easily caught
the air and began to sing too, at first timidly and hardly audibly; but
she soon gained courage and, following the example of little Papias,
joined in with all her might.

She felt as though she had reached land after a stormy and uncomfortable
voyage, and had found refuge in a hospitable home; she looked about her
to discover whether the news of the approaching destruction of the
world had not penetrated even here, but she could not feel certain;
for, though many faces expressed anguish of mind, contrition, and a
passionate desire--perhaps for help or, perhaps, for something quite
different--not a cry of lamentation was to be heard, such as had rent
the air by the temple of Isis, and most of the men and women assembled
here were singing, or praying in silent absorption. There were none of
the frenzied monks who had terrified her in the Xenodochium and in the
streets; on this day of tumult and anxiety they are devoting all
their small strength and great enthusiasm to the service of the Church
militant.

This meeting, at so unusual an hour, had been convened by Eusebius, the
deacon of the district, with the intention of calming the spirits of
those who had caught the general i