The Emperor either did not hear, or did not understand, the last words of the messenger. His face became strangely rigid. He made a gesture of dismissal to all present. Eusebius alone remained to talk the business over with him. In another quarter of an hour Constantius ordered that he should be assisted to his chamber, and made several steps. Then a cry escaped him; he pressed his hands to his head, as if he suddenly felt terrible pain. Courtiers ran to support him. The Emperor did not lose consciousness. By his face and movements, and the veins, standing out like whipcord on his forehead, it was evident that he was making fearful efforts to speak. Finally he stammered slowly, word by word, as if being throttled by an iron collar-- "I--want--to--speak--and--I--cannot!" Those were his last words; paralysis had stricken the whole of his right side. His arm and leg fell inert. He was carried to bed, but his eyes were wakeful and intelligent, and he struggled to utter something--some important order perhaps. From his lips came only confused sounds, like weak lowings. No one understood what he wanted, and the invalid fixed his clear gaze in turn on each present. Eunuchs, courtiers, generals, slaves, thronged round the dying man, helplessly desirous of doing his last behest. At moments the clear eye became angered and the lowing hoarse. At last Eusebius understood, and brought wax and tablets. At the sight of these a flash of joy was seen on the Emperor's face. He gripped the steel stylus awkwardly, like a child. After some struggles, he succeeded in tracing a few letters on the soft wax, and the courtiers with difficulty deciphered the word "_Baptism_." Constantius fixed his supplicating look on Eusebius, and everybody wondered at not having understood before. He was desirous of being baptised before death, having, like his father Constantine, always postponed this sacrament to the last, in the belief that he could then miraculously cleanse his soul and leave it whiter than snow. A messenger was despatched for the bishop. There proved to be none in Mopsucrenam, and recourse was had to the Arian priest of the basilica. He was a timid man, with a bird-like face, red-nosed, with a goat's beard, and a provincial manner.