There are times when the very intensity of our misery is a boon, and kindly stuns us till we are unable to torture ourselves by thought. And so it was with Philammon then. He sat there, he knew not how long.
‘She is with the gods,’ said Eudaimon at last.
‘She is with the God of gods,’ answered Philammon: and they both were silent again.
Suddenly a commanding voice aroused them.
They looked up, and saw before them Raphael Aben-Ezra.
He was pale as death, but calm as death. One look into his face told them that he knew all.
‘Young monk,’ he said, between his closed teeth, ‘you seem to have loved her?’
Philammon looked up, but could not speak.
‘Then arise, and flee for your life into the farthest corner of the desert, ere the doom of Sodom and Gomorrha fall upon this accursed city. Have you father, mother, brother, sister,—ay, cat, dog, or bird for which you care, within its walls?’
Philammon started; for he recollected Pelagia.... That evening, so Cyril had promised, twenty trusty monks were to have gone with him to seize her.