“Is it?” replied Baithene, with some hesitation. “That scarcely seems much easier than being a martyr.” [Illustration] CHAPTER V. ONCE MORE THROUGH WRECK TO ROME. It seemed almost like a second exile to Ethne and Baithene when they left the lofty caverns of that rocky sea-palace, and missed the familiar sound of the matin-bell coming across the sands; and when they lost sight of Dewi, their one friend, standing on a point of rock and watching the boat as long as it could be seen. They had great need of their new faith; and the anchor held, although they took their religion differently, according to their character. For Baithene it was a commission to conquer circumstances and so reign over them, king of himself, if of nothing else, like the Stoics, with the inspiring addition of the patience being the patience of hope, and the conviction that in ruling himself he served the King Who ruled the nations and the ages. For Ethne it was a talisman to redeem and save, to save by loving, to redeem by forgiving, like Patrick; a link with every human creature she met, not of thought merely but of life, of kindred, through the Divine Christ Who had redeemed all mankind and is Himself man. Whatever untruth men thought, she felt the truth they did not think remained; whatever evil men did, the evil could be turned into good for the sufferers by love and faith, and for the wrong-doers by the forgiving patience which might win them to repent. Therefore, sad and dark as their life might be, it could never be empty or unmeaning, because of the quenchless hope of this Christian faith, because of the life-giving power of the living Christ. Life was not a mere tangle of twisted lines, decorative or chaotic; it was a sacred inscription which God could read if they could not, for He was writing it; which one day, when they had learned His language, they also would be able to read.