"This place is very public"—he glanced at the people above them. 

 "I will hear you here." 

 "At your pleasure.... The Hegumen referred next to your going about publicly unveiled. While not positively wrong, he condemned the practice as a pernicious example; besides which there was a defiant boldness in it, he said, tending to make you a subject of discussion and indelicate remark." 

 The hand on the stony arm trembled. 

 "I fear, O Princess," Sergius continued, with downcast look, "that my words are giving you pain." 

 "But they are not yours. Go on." 

 "Then the Father came to what was much more serious." 

 Sergius again hesitated. 

 "I am listening," she said. 

 "He termed it your persistence in keeping up the establishment here at Therapia." 

 The Princess grew red and white by turns. 

 "He said the Turk was too near you; that unmarried and unprotected your proper place was in some house of God on the Islands, or in the city, where you could have the benefit of holy offices. As it was, rumor was free to accuse you of preferring guilty freedom to marriage." 

 The breeze fell off that moment, leaving the Princess in the centre of a profound hush; except for the unwonted labor of her heart, the leaves overhead were not more still. The sight of her was too oppressive—Sergius turned away. Presently he heard her say, as if to herself: "I am indeed in danger. If my death were not in meditation, the boldest of them would not dare think so foul a falsehood.... Sergius," she said. 

 He turned to her, but she broke off diverted by another idea. Had this last accusation reference to the Emperor's dream of making her his wife? Could the Emperor have published what took place between them? Impossible! 

 "Sergius, did the Hegumen tell you whence this calumny had origin?" 

 Prev. P 9/388 next