With a hasty gesture she placed the ivory rod which she had found in the middle of the roll so as to flatten it out, and her eye fell on the words, “Come unto me, all ye that are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.”  To her, if to any one, was this glorious bidding addressed, for few had a heavier burden to bear.  But indeed she already felt it lighter, after the terrors she had gone through on the very verge of despair; and now, even though she was still surrounded by dangers, she was far from feeling oppressed or terrified.  Now her heart beat higher with hopeful gladness, and she was full of fervent gratitude as she told herself with lively and confident assurance that she had found a new guide, and, holding His loving and powerful hand, could walk in the way in safety.  She felt as though some beloved hand had given her a vial of precious medicine that would cure every disease, when she had learned this verse, too, by heart.  She would never forget the friendly promise and invitation that lay in those words.  And to Alexander, at least—­poor, conscience-stricken Alexander—­they might bring some comfort, if not to her father and Philip, since the call of the Son of God was addressed to him too.  And she looked as happy as though she had heard something to rejoice her heart and soul.  Her red lips parted once more, showing the two white teeth which were never to be seen but when she smiled and some real happiness stirred her soul.

She fancied she was alone, but, even while she was reading the words in which the Saviour called to him the weary and heavy-laden, the lady Euryale had noiselessly opened a secret door leading to Melissa’s hiding-place, known only to herself and her husband, and had come close to her.  She now stood watching the girl with surprise and astonishment, for she had expected to find her beside herself, desperate, and more than ever needing comfort and soothing.  The unhappy girl must have been drawn to the window by the cries of the massacred, and at least have glanced at the revolting scene in the stadium.  She would have thought it more natural if she had found Melissa overcome by the horrors she had witnessed, half distraught or paralyzed by distress and rage.  And there sat the young creature, whom she knew to be soft-hearted and gentle, smiling and with beaming eyes—­though those eyes must have rested on the most hideous spectacle—­looking as though the roll in her lap were the first enchanting raptures of a lover.  The book lying on Melissa’s knees was the gospel of Matthew, which she herself early this morning, while the girl was still sleeping, had laid by her side to comfort her and give her some insight into the blessings of Christianity.  But these scriptures, so sacred to Euryale, had seemed to count for less than nothing to this heathen girl, the sister of Philip the skeptic.

Euryale loved Melissa, but far dearer to her was the book to whose all-important contents the maiden seemed to have closed her heart in coldness.