g father! Through that breach
Constantine would enter--and where he commanded she was safe. As to
the destruction of the universe--she no longer believed in it. When the
physician turned round and saw her calmly and quietly wiping the cold
drops from the sick man's brow, he said gloomily: "Of what use is it to
shut our eyes like the ostrich. They are fighting down there for life
or death--we had better prepare for the end. If they venture--and they
will--to lay a sacrilegious hand on the god, besiegers and besieged
alike--the whole world together, must perish."

But Gorgo shook her head. "No, no," she cried, with zealous confidence.
"No, Apuleius, Serapis is not what you believe him to be; for, if he
were, would he suffer his enemies to overthrow his temple and his image?
Why does he not, at this supreme moment, inspire his worshippers
with courage? I have seen the men--mere boys--and the women who have
assembled here to fight for him. They are nothing but drivellers and
triflers. If the master is like his men it serves him right if he is
overthrown; to weep for him would be waste of woe!"

"And can the daughter of Porphyrius say this?" exclaimed the leech.

"Yes, Apuleius, yes. After what I have seen, and heard, and endured this
night, I cannot speak otherwise. It was shameful, horrible, sickening;
I could rage at the mere thought of being supposed to be one of that
debased crew. It is disgrace and ignominy even to be named in the same
breath! A god who is served as this god has been is no god of mine! And
you--you are learned--a sage and a philosopher--how can you believe that
the God of the Christians when he has conquered and crippled yours, will
ever permit Serapis to destroy His world and the men He created?"

Apuleius drew himself up. "Are you then a Christian?" he asked swiftly
and sternly.

But Gorgo could not reply; she colored deeply and Apuleius vehemently
repeated his question: "Then you really are a Christian?"

She looked frankly in his face: "No," she said, "I am not; but I wish I
were."

The physician turned away with a shrug; but Gorgo drew a breath of
relief, feeling that her avowal had lifted a heavy burthen from her
soul. She hardly knew how the bold and momentous confession had got
itself spoken, but she felt that it was the only veracious answer to the
physician's question.

They spoke no more; she was better pleased to remain silent, for her own
utterance had opened out to her a new land