Elenko soon found that there was no pausing upon the path to which she had committed herself.  As the sole medium of communication between Prometheus and the religious public, her time was half spent in instructing Prometheus in the creed in which he was supposed to have instructed her, and half in framing the edifying sentences which passed for the interpretation of discourses for the most part far more interesting to herself than if they had been what they professed to be.  The rapt and impassioned attention which she was observed to bestow on his utterances on such occasions all but gained her the reputation of a saint, and was accepted as a sufficient set-off against the unhallowed affection which she could not help manifesting for the memory of her father.  The judicious reluctance of the Caucasian ecclesiastics to inquire over-anxiously into the creeds and customs of the primitive Church was a great help to her; and another difficulty was removed by the Bishop, who, having no idea of encouraging a rival thaumaturgist, took an early opportunity of signifying that it was rather in the line of Desmotes (for by this name the new saint passed) to be the subject than the instrument of miracles, and that, at all events, no more were to be looked for from him at his time of life.  The warmth with which Elenko espoused this view raised her greatly in his good opinion, and he was always ready to come to her aid when she became entangled in chronological or historical difficulties, or seasoned her versions of Desmotes’ speeches with reminiscences of Plato or Marcus Aurelius, or when her invention failed altogether.  On such occasions, if objectors grew troublesome, the Bishop would thunder, “Brethren, I smell a heresy!” and no more was said.  One minor trouble both to Prometheus and Elenko was the affection they were naturally expected to manifest towards the carcase of the wretched eagle, which many identified with the eagle of the Evangelist John.  Prometheus was of a forgiving disposition, but Elenko wished nothing more ardently than that the whole aquiline race might have but one neck, and that she might wring it.  It somewhat comforted her to observe that the eagle’s plumage was growing thin, while the eagle’s custodian was growing fat.

But she had worse troubles to endure than any that eagles could occasion.  The youth of those who resorted to her and Prometheus attracted remark from the graver members of the community.  Young ladies found the precepts of the handsome and dignified saint indispensable to their spiritual health; young men were charmed with their purity as they came filtered through the lips of Elenko.  Is man more conceited than woman, or more confiding?  Elenko should certainly have been at ease; no temptress, however enterprising, could well be spreading her nets for an Antony three hundred years old.  Prometheus, on the contrary, might have found cause for jealousy in many a noble youth’s unconcealed admiration