“Her father, Aulus Harpinius——”
“See, see!” again burst in the youth Æmilius, [pg 13]“there are but two left; that little brown girl, and she whom thou namest——”
“Perpetua.”
Now arrived the supreme moment—that of the final selection. The choosing girl, in whose hand was the apple, stood before those who alone remained. She began:
“One, two
Drops of dew.”
Although there was so vast a concourse present, not a sound could be heard, save the voice of the girl repeating the jingle, and the rush of the holy water over the weir. Every breath was held.
“Nine and ten,
Pass again.
Golden pippin, now I cast,