Though she had believed herself surely prepared long since for the worst, this news fell on her like a thunderbolt.  What lay before her seemed so monstrous, so unexampled, that it was impossible that she ever could look forward to it firmly and calmly.

For a long time she could not help clinging desperately to her faithful Betta, and it was only by degrees that she so far recovered herself as to be able to speak to the bishop, and thank him.  He, however, could only lament his inability to earn her fullest gratitude, for the patriarch’s reply to his complaint of those who promised rescue to the people by the instrumentality of a heathen abomination—­a document on which he had founded his highest hopes for her—­had had a different result from that which he had expected.  The patriarch, to be sure, condemned the abominable sacrifice, but he did it in a way which lacked the force necessary to terrify and discourage the misled mob.  However, he would try what effect it might have on the people, and a number of scribes were at work to make copies of it in the course of the night.  These would be sent to the Senators next morning, posted up in the market-place and public buildings, and distributed to the people; but he feared all this would have no effect.

“Then help me to prepare for death,” said Paula gloomily.  “You are not a priest of my confession, but no church has a more worthy minister.  If you can absolve me in the name of your Redeemer, mine will pardon me.  We look at Him, it is true, with different eyes, but He is the Saviour of us both, nevertheless.”  A contradictory reply struggled for utterance in the strict Jacobite’s mind, but at such a moment he felt he must repress it; he only answered: 

“Speak, daughter, I am listening.”

And she poured forth all her soul, as though he had been a priest of her own creed, and his eyes grew moist as he heard this confession of a pure and loving heart, yearning for all that was highest and best.  He promised her the mercy of the Redeemer, and when he had ended with “Amen,” and blessed her, he looked down at the ground for some minutes and presently said, “Follow me, Child.”

“Whither?” she asked in surprise; for she thought that her last hour had already come, and that he was about to lead her away to the place of execution, or to her watery, ever-flowing tomb; but he smiled as he replied:  “No, child.  To-day I have only the pleasing duty of blessing your betrothal before God; if only you will promise not to estrange your husband from the faith of his fathers—­for what will not a man sacrifice to win the love of a woman.—­You promise?  Then I will take you to your Orion.”

He rapped on the door of the cell, and when the warder had opened it he whispered his orders; Paula followed him silently and with blushing cheeks, and in a few minutes she was clasped to her lover’s breast while, for the first time—­and perhaps the last—­their lips met in a kiss.