“With Him Who can stop the mouths of the lions,” murmured Miriam.
“With the Creator of the lions!” said Ethne. “He made everything good, they told us in Ireland. Even the lions! Even Attila is not only a destroyer.”
Afterwards, when they were alone, she said to Baithene—
“Who can tell what even Attila might have been if the Christians he met had all been saints!”
“He seems to have a wonderful eye for a saint,” Baithene admitted. “But we must pray hard for the Bishop.”
“I do not believe Attila will hurt a hair of his head,” rejoined Ethne. “He is, after all, nothing worse than a Hun, and I cannot forget the poor ugly brown head that I had to hold, or the kind dying eyes that looked into mine.”
