“For masters, not for slaves.” “For slaves as well as masters, and then God will wipe away all tears from our eyes.” “Alack, mistress. The power to hope is gone from me. In a wet season, when there is little sun, then the fruit mildews on the tree and drops off. When we were young we put forth the young fruit of hopes; but there has been no sun. They fall off, and the tree can bear no more.” “Blanda, if ever I have the power——” “Oh, mistress, with my master you can do anything.” “Blanda, I do not know that I can ask him for this—thy freedom. But, if the opportunity offers, I certainly will not forget thee.” A slave appeared at the door and signed to Blanda, who, with an obeisance, asked leave to depart. The leave was given, and she left the room. Presently she returned in great excitement, followed by Baudillas and Pedo, both drenched with rain and battered by the gale. Perpetua uttered an exclamation of delight, and rushed to the deacon with extended arms. “I pray, I pray, give me some news of my mother.” But he drew back likewise surprised, and replied with another question: “The Lady Perpetua! And how come you to be here?” “That I will tell later,” answered the girl. “Now inform me as to my mother.” “Alas!” replied Baudillas, wiping the rain from his face, “the news is sad. She has been taken before Petronius, and has been consigned to prison.” “My mother is in prison!” The deacon desired to say no more, but he was awkward at disguising his unwillingness to speak the whole truth. The eager eyes of the girl read the hesitation in his face. “I beseech you,” she urged, “conceal nothing from me.” “I have told you, she is in jail.” “On what charge? Who has informed against her?” “I was not in the court when she was tried. I know very little. I was near the town, waiting about, and I got scraps of information from some of our people, and from Pedo, who went into the city.” “Then you do know. Answer me truly. Tell me all.” “I—I was in prison myself, but escaped through the aid of Pedo. I tarried in an old kiln. He advised that I should come on here, where he had friends. Dost thou know that Marcianus has been sentenced? He will win that glorious crown which I have lost. I—I, unworthy, I fled, when it might have been mine. Yet, God forgive me! I am not ungrateful to Pedo. Marcianus said I was a coward, and unfit for the Kingdom of God; that I should be excluded because I had turned back. God forgive me!” Suddenly Perpetua laid hold of Baudillas by both arms, and so gripped him that the water oozed between her fingers and dropped on the floor. “I adjure thee, by Him in whom we both believe, answer me truly, speak fully. Is my mother retained in prison till I am found?” The deacon looked down nervously, uncomfortably, and shuffled from foot to foot. “Understand,” said he, after a long silence, “all I learned is by hearsay. I really know nothing for certain.”