As he prayed and prophesied thus, a lad passed on an ass.  Paphnutius ordered him to descend, seated Thais on the ass, and led it by the bridle.  Towards evening they came to a canal shaded by fine trees; he tied the ass to the trunk of a date palm, and sitting on a mossy stone he shared with Thais a loaf, which they ate with salt and hyssop.  They drank fresh water in their hands, and talked of things eternal.  She said—­

“I have never drunk water so pure nor breathed an air so light, and I feel that God floats in the breezes that pass.”

“Look! it is the evening, O my sister.  The blue shadows of night cover the hills.  But soon thou wilt see shining in the dawn the tabernacles of Light; soon thou wilt behold shine forth the roses of the eternal morning.”

They journeyed all night, and, while the crescent moon gleamed on the silver crests of the waves, they sang psalms and hymns.  When the sun rose, the Libyan desert stretched before them like a huge lion-skin.  At the edge of the desert, and close to a few palm-trees, some white huts shimmered in the morning light.

“Are those the tabernacles of Light, father?” asked Thais.

“Even so, my daughter and my sister.  Yonder is the House of Salvation, where I will confine you with my own hands.”

Soon they saw a number of women busy around the buildings, like bees round their hives.  There were some who baked bread, or prepared vegetables; many were spinning wool, and the light of heaven shone upon them like a smile of God.  Others meditated in the shade of the tamarisk trees; their white hands hung by their sides, for, being filled with love, they had chosen the part of Magdalen, and performed no work but prayer, contemplation, and ecstasy.  They were, therefore, called the Marys, and were clad in white.  Those who worked with their hands were called the Marthas, and wore blue robes.  All wore the hood, but the younger ones allowed a few curls to show on their foreheads—­unintentionally, it is to be presumed, since it was forbidden by the rules.  A very old lady, tall and white, walked from cell to cell, leaning on a staff of hard wood.  Paphnutius approached her respectfully, kissed the hem of her veil, and said—­

“The peace of the Lord be with thee, venerable Albina.  I have brought to the hive, of which thou art queen, a bee I found lost on a flowerless road.  I took it in the palm of my hand, and revived it with my breath.  I give it to thee.”

And he pointed to the actress, who knelt down before the daughter of the Caesars.

Albina cast a piercing glance on Thais, ordered her to rise, kissed her on the forehead, and then, turning to the monk—­

“We will place her,” she said, “amongst the Marys.”

Paphnutius then related how Thais had been brought to the House of Salvation, and asked that she should be at once confined in a cell.  The abbess consented, and led the penitent to a hut, which had remained empty since the death of the virgin Laeta, who had sanctified it.  In this narrow chamber there was but a bed, a table, and a pitcher, and Thais when she crossed the threshold, felt filled with ineffable joy.