"Hearest thou? They are seeking me! They come! Save me! Cover me with thy body. Here, all this gold"--he threw the heavy bag on the altar, it burst and single gold pieces ran clinking over the steps on to the marble pavement. "Alas! it escapes from me faithlessly! All this gold--or the half--no--all, the whole will I give thee--no, not to thee. I know thou wilt devote it to St. Peter, to thy church, to the poor--only save me!"
And he threw himself at the priest's feet, carefully concealing the little purse of jewels in his bosom.
Johannes raised him.
"I will save thee!--for Christ's sake, not for the sake of the gold."
"Thou wilt stay with me," cried Zeno with rising hope.
"That I cannot do. My place at this hour is on the battle-field, to attend on the wounded. My brethren I have already sent out. I was only deriving strength from a last prayer."
"No, no, I will not let thee go!" cried Zeno, clinging to him.
But, with unlooked-for strength, Johannes freed himself.
"I must, I tell thee. The Lord calls me. Perhaps I may even check the slaughter. But thou--thy cruelty has so enraged the unhappy creatures, that some of them would not be restrained by the altar--by my intercession"----
"Yes, yes!" agreed Zeno.