Cedric’s eyes, sharpened as they were by love, had caught a glimpse of Carna, as she was swept in the throng of fugitives within the doors of the villa, and he at once led his men to the attack. Any defence of the place against assailants so determined would have been hopeless, even had the garrison been as resolute as they were, in fact, feeble and demoralized. A few sturdy blows from Cedric’s battle-axe brought the principal door to the ground, and he rushed across the fragments into the hall, followed by some ten of his attendants. The rest he had signed to remain without. Carna, who, herself undismayed amidst all the tumult, was surrounded by a group of terrified men and women, stood facing him. The crimson mounted to her forehead as she met his eyes, for she saw, as no woman could fail to see, the love that was in them; but she showed no other sign of emotion. “Spare these poor creatures,” she said, pointing to her terrified companions. “Your lives are safe,” said Cedric in British. “Go with this man,” and he pointed to one of his attendants, to whom at the same time he gave some brief directions. He turned to Carna: “Lady,” he said, “this is no time for many words; and I could not say them if it were, for my tongue is ill-taught in your language. But you cannot have failed to see my heart. It is yours, and all that I have. Come and be a queen in my home and among my people.” The girl’s eyes, which she had turned to the ground at his first address, were now lifted to meet his gaze. “I cannot leave my people,” she said. “Yet,” he answered, “the good women of whom you used to tell me, whose lives are written in that holy book of yours, left their own people to follow their husbands.” “Yes, but the God of the husbands whom they followed was the God whom they worshipped in their own homes. You worship strange gods, with whom I can have no fellowship.” “Come with me and teach the truth to my people and me,” cried the young man, feeling that there was nothing which he would not do to win this bright, brave, beautiful maiden. “Listen, Cedric,” she answered—it was the first time that she had called him by his name, and he thought that he had never known before what a name it was—“You told me some time since that you would sooner go into the everlasting darkness with your own people than bow the knee to a God whom you believed to have dealt unjustly with them. It was a noble resolve; and I have honoured you for it. Will you give it up for the love of a woman? If you did, I could honour you no more, and you are too good to have a wife that did not honour you. No, Cedric, I will pray for you. Perhaps God will hear me, and give you light, and bring us together to the blessed Christ, but it cannot be here.”