"Yes," said Sergius, with an emphatic gesture, "there are who live martyrs all their days, reserving nothing for death but to bring them their crowns."
The manner of the utterance, and the thought compelled the Hegumen's notice.
"My son," he said, presently, "thou hast a preacher's power. I wish I foreknew thy future. But I must haste or"—
"Nay, Father, permit me to help you recline again."
And with the words, Sergius helped the feeble body down.
"Thanks, my son," he received, in return, "I know thy soul is gentle."
After a rest the speech was resumed.
"Of the Princess—she is given to the Scriptures; in the reading, which else would be a praiseworthy usage, she refuses light except it proceed from her own understanding. We are accustomed when in doubt—thou knowest it to be so—to take the interpretations of the Fathers; but she insists the Son of God knew what He meant better than any whose good intentions are lacking in the inspirations of the Holy Ghost."
A gleam of pleasure flitted over the listener's countenance.
"So," the Hegumen continued, "she hath gone the length of fabricating a creed for herself, and substituting it for that which is the foundation of the Church—I mean the Creed transmitted to us from the Council of Nicaea."