“It is strange; it makes one think of our old histories in spite of oneself. It is like Elisha and his wall of fire.” Miriam’s face quivered with emotion. “The God of Elisha is living,” she sighed, “and surely He is never far off.” Eleazar made no reply but a despairing groan, and went out to find a safe hiding-place for his chests. But when Miriam and he were alone together again he said reproachfully— “Thinkest thou the angels of God will build walls of fire around these Gentiles? As they have done unto us so shall it be done unto them.” “I know not,” was Miriam’s reply. “I was thinking of the old words, ‘Should I not spare Nineveh, the great city, wherein are more than six score thousand persons that cannot discern between their right hand and their left, and also much cattle?’” “But that,” said Eleazar, “is in the Book of Jonah, a wonderful and mysterious apologue, which it is dangerous for the people who know not the law, especially for women, to interpret.” That evening Ethne reminded Baithene that a monk of Tours had given them on the second tablet a letter to Lupus, Bishop of Troyes—the very man whose prayers, as Eleazar’s acquaintance had said, made a wall of fire round the city. Eleazar had found the introduction to Bishop Anianus of Orleans too satisfactory for him to refuse that the captives should make use of this second tablet. The next morning, therefore, Ethne and Baithene went to the church to present their introduction. The good, aged Bishop himself lay prostrate before the altar in sackcloth and ashes. After a time he rose, lifted his hands in benediction, and went forth through the streets at the head of a procession of clergy and people, also in penitential robes of sackcloth, with ashes on their heads, chanting litanies. Ethne and Baithene followed. They had been impressed by the power and light in the sunken eyes and on the worn and hollow face of the Bishop; but they had little hope of getting near the holy man himself, until, as he entered his own door, they saw him pause on the threshold, that the poor mothers might draw near for him to lay his hands on their children and bless them. Then Ethne and Baithene ventured to press near, and present him with the old monk’s tablet. It was at once accepted with a gracious welcome, and the brother and sister were led into the house, and committed to the care of an aged priest. “Alas! my children,” he said, “I fear you have come to the very den of the lion. Attila and the Huns are at our doors; walls and gates we have none. This very morning the tramp of the host has been heard, and the Bishop is to lead us forth in solemn procession to plead with Attila for mercy. Perhaps you will help us more by your prayers than we can help you.”