Hope sank low and faith grew dim, while
in her heart she wondered vaguely what was the meaning of it all, and
why poor men and women were made to suffer thus for the pleasure of
other men and women; wondered also what escape there could be for her.
While she mused thus, like a ray of light through the clouds, a sense
of consolation, sweet as it was sudden, seemed to pierce the darkness
of her bitter thoughts. She knew not whence it came, nor what it might
portend, yet it existed, and the source of it seemed near to her. She
scanned the faces of the crowd, finding pity in a few, curiosity in
more, but in most gross admiration if they were men, or scorn of her
misfortune and jealousy of her loveliness if they were women. Not from
among these did that consolation flow. She looked up to the sky, half
expecting to see there that angel of the Lord into whose keeping the
bishop, Cyril, had delivered her. But the skies were empty and brazen
as the faces of the Roman crowd; not a cloud could be seen in them, much
less an angel.
As her eyes sank earthwards their glance fell upon one of the windows of
the marble house to her left. If she remembered right some few minutes
before the shutters of that window had been closed, now they were open,
revealing two heavy curtains of blue embroidered silk.
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