He paused a moment, but Aurelia had no word of reply to this exordium.  Seeing her keep the same haughty posture in her chair, with eyes scornfully averted as if she scarce listened, Leander proceeded to disclose his mind in less ornate terms By subtle grades of confidential speech, beginning with a declaration of the sympathy moved in him by the parent’s love, the daughter’s distress, he came with lowering voice, with insinuating tone, with blandly tolerant countenance, to the kernel of his discourse; it contained a suggestion which might—­he only said might—­aid her amid the manifold perplexities of her position.  By this time Aurelia was more attentive; the churchman almost affectionate in his suavity, grew still more direct; and at length, in a voice which only reached the ear of the listener, he spoke thus: 

’I understand why you stepped aside from the way of truth; I perceive the obstacles hindering your return.  I know the tender impulses which urge you to soothe your father’s last hours, and, no less, the motives, natural to a woman of your beauty, of your birth, which are at strife with that tenderness and threaten to overcome it.  Could you discover a means of yielding to your filial affection, and at the same time safeguarding your noble pride, would you not gladly use it?  Such a means I can point out to you.’

He became silent, watching Aurelia.  She, won by the perspicacity which read her heart, had put aside all arrogance, and wore a look of grave intentness.

‘Let me know it,’ she murmured.

’It is this.  Return to the true belief, but guard awhile the secret of your conversion.  That it shall not be disclosed until you wish, I can give you firm assurance—­if need be, on solemn oath.  You will privately make known to your father that he has prevailed, thereby you put his flesh and spirit at rest,—­he will die blessing you, and enriching you to the full extent of his desire.  You will then also set your signature to a paper, which I shall write, making confession of the orthodox faith, and undertaking to be duly reconciled with the church, by the imposition of hands, at some convenient season.  That is all that will be asked of you for the present.  The lady Petronilla’—­he all but smiled in uttering the name—­’shall not even suspect what has happened.’

‘Will this villa be mine?’ asked the listener after brief reflection.

‘This villa shall be yours.’

An exultant gleam shone in Aurelia’s eyes.

‘Deacon,’ she said sternly, ’your promise is not enough.  Swear to me that no one living, save my father and you, shall know.’

From his bosom Leander drew forth a little golden cross.

‘This,’ he said reverently, ’contains dust of iron from the bars on which the blessed Laurentius suffered martyrdom.’

‘Swear also,’ demanded Aurelia, ‘by the Holy Pancratius.’  In the name of both saints Leander took his oath of secrecy.  Petronilla was of course aware that the deacon had been admitted to audience by her niece.  When he descended, she awaited him at the end of the portico, and her look questioned him.