“‘I have bought you both with a price, you are Mine; enter ye into the Heavenly City, and go out no more.’ Then my little mistress, fair Hyacintha, took my hand, and we went up the golden street together, and there was again the sound of many waters, and of sweet music, and countless glad voices; and then I opened my eyes, and all was dark--so dark--but I felt thy arm pressing me to thy heart, Agatha, and was comforted.” “My poor child,” Agatha sighed, “I would that thy dream were true. There is sharp pain first before thou canst enter through the gates. Say, wilt thou be able to endure to the end, as our master, Amphibalus, and holy Alban did?” “I am but weak; I am but weak and young,” Anna said, “but He is with me. I hope we shall go together, Agatha.” “I would fain hope so; but it may not be; perchance that would be too great a favour at the hands of our persecutors. While thou hast been dreaming, a dream, I doubt not, sent to thee from heaven, by the love of our Lord, I have been thinking over my life. Here, in this dark dungeon, I saw before me a peaceful hut, on the borders of the great river, where as a girl I played, and often went with my father in the coracle, to gather the oysters from their bed as the water ebbed, and to pick out the pearls from them when the shells were forced open. I mind me that my father would say that the oysters the hardest to force open always held the finest pearls. Since I have become a Christian, I have thought often of those words. For verily the Pearl of Great Price is not easy to obtain, and we find it with much pain and searching. I became afterwards the wife of a brave man, and the mother of two noble boys. I saw them all killed, in a fight between our people and some who owed allegiance to Carausius. I thought my heart was broken then, and I wanted in my blindness to end my life by plunging a dagger into my breast. But it was then that I came with Heraclius, my kinsman, under the teaching of Amphibalus, and the Lord showed me that to live according to His will was a nobler thing than to give up the life He had bestowed, ere it was His good pleasure to recall it. Thus I lived, and I have nursed the sick at Verulam, and, in my humble way, held the cross of Christ before the eyes of those, who, clasping it to their hearts, have found it turned into a crown. It was at the secret meetings of the Christians that I first saw thee, the frightened, trembling Ebba, the slave of the rich and noble Severus. Then how my love flowed forth to thee on the hill-side, on that early summer night when Amphibalus baptised thee, and thy name was no longer Ebba but Anna. And we have shared perils and trials together since then, dear one, and love has knit our hearts in a bond that death cannot break.” “Oh! that we may die together,” Anna said. “I thought this morning, when the darkness came over me like a cold wave, it was death. Will dying be like that swoon, thinkest thou?”