“Sicily still stands in Christendom,” Perpetua answered; “and this ground is as holy as the old Jerusalem or the new.”
Lycabetta looked at her with languid wonder.
“Why are you so perverse? It is a smiling fortune to be the darling of a king.”
“It is a fairer fortune to be the darling of the Lord,” Perpetua answered, proudly. “Why do you plague me so vainly? There is no fear nor favor in the world that can move me.”
Lycabetta watched her with half-closed lids. “Are you so sure?” she said, cruelly. Then she went to the side door and opened it, calling out, “My lord!” and instant to her summons Hildebrand entered the church.
“Your chaste angel will play no game with us.”
Hildebrand gave Perpetua a courtly salutation. “I am glad to find you, lady.”
Perpetua had drawn close to King Robert’s pillar and caught the rope in her hands.
“If you come near me,” she cried, “I will ring this bell and Syracuse will guard me.”
“You mistake me,” Hildebrand said, calmly. “I am your friend, and by your leave I would save you from the King. Do not believe that sanctuary will serve you. His lust of hate would pluck you from between the horns of the altar.”