She then made so bold as to ask if she could see a priest; but for this she was directed to go to the church, as all those who were immediately attached to the Bishop were to-day fully occupied, and had no time for trifles. Agne, however, persisted in her request till the man lost patience altogether and told her to be off at once; but at this instant three ecclesiastics came in at the door by which her friend was on guard, and Agne, collecting all her courage, went up to one of them, a priest of advanced age, and besought him urgently: "Oh! reverend Father, I beg of you to hear me. I must speak to a priest, and that man drives me away and says you none of you have time to attend to me!" "Did he say that!" asked the priest, and he turned angrily on the culprit saying: "The Church and her ministers never lack time to attend to the needs of any faithful soul--I will follow you, brothers.--Now, my child, what is it that you need?" "It lies so heavily on my soul," replied Agne, raising her eyes and hands in humble supplication. "I love my Saviour, but I cannot always do exactly as I should wish, and I do not know how I ought to act so as not to fall into sin." "Come with me," said the priest, and leading the way across a small garden, he took her into a wide open court and from thence in at a side door and up a flight of stairs which led to the upper floor. As she followed him her heart beat high with painful and yet hopeful excitement. She kept her hands tightly clasped and tried to pray, but she could hardly control her thoughts of her brother and of all she wanted to say to the presbyter. They presently entered a lofty room where the window-shutters were closed, and where a number of lamps, already lighted, were hanging over the cushioned divans on which sat rows of busy scribes of all ages. "Here we are," said the priest kindly, as he seated himself in an easy- cliair at some little distance from the writers. "Now, tell me fully what troubles you; but as briefly as you can, for I am sparing you these minutes from important business." "My lord," she began, "my parents were freeborn, natives of Augusta Trevirorum. My father was a collector of tribute in the Emperor's service . . ." "Very good--but has this anything to do with the matter?" "Yes, yes, it has. My father and mother were good Christians and in the riots at Antioch--you remember, my lord, three years ago--they were killed and I and my brother--Papias is his name . . ." "Yes, yes--go on." "We were sold. My master paid for us--I saw the money; but he did not treat us as slaves. But now he wants me--he, Sir, is wholly devoted to the heathen gods-and he wants me . . ." "To serve his idols?" "Yes, reverend Father, and so we ran away." "Quite right, my child." "But the scriptures say that the slave shall obey his master?"