For a moment they could see nothing by the smoky light of the pine knot in the iron clamp of the wall except the silver beam of the moonlight breaking the dark through a casement window so deep you could only see the night sky outside as through a long high tube. There was the sound of breathing, and a man’s figure lay on a cot against the wall, with one arm and one foot padlocked to a staple in the stones. His head was pillowed on a folded black cloak and his forehead bound in a white cloth, where the rocks of the rioters had struck him, but the moonlight falling on his face and hands showed a curious luminous radiance and white peace. At first the Greek girl thought he was dead and her knees gave under her. Then, she heard his breathing and knew that he slept and was dreaming happy dreams, as children dream in peace, for the white face smiled in its sleep. The Greek girl’s eyes closed and her lips moved in prayer. Yet she hardly knew how or to whom to pray; for in the temples of Iconium there were only statues of the goddess Venus, or Diana, or the Roman emperors; and she had never before prayed to an Unknown, Invisible God. Her serving woman fell to her knees and began to wail aloud, swaying her body to and fro after the manner of the Blacks. When Thecla opened her eyes from an almost inarticulate prayer, she saw the prisoner sitting up on his cot. “Child—how came—you here?” She told him in a few words. “Have you counted the cost?” “No cost can be too great,” she said. He smiled quietly as though he had not been mobbed and stoned by a riotous rabble but a few hours before. “True, child, no cost can be too great; for no one can leave father or mother, or brother or sister to join the Glad Kingdom but the reward shall be a hundredfold, both here and hereafter. The cost is but the trifling price we pay to pass through the portals to the Unseen Kingdom, whether here or hereafter; but why came you here?” “To be baptized into that Kingdom before they whip you from the city to-morrow.” “Bid your serving woman bring me the jar of drinking water.” She kneeled at his feet. He dipped his finger in the jar and marked the sign of the Cross on her brow. “I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit into the service of the Glad Kingdom both here and hereafter, now and forever more,” he said. “Bid your woman hand me the bread and the cup of wine. Quaff now the Loving Cup with me, child!” He handed her a broken piece of bread. “In as oft as you do this, you do it in remembrance of the Crucified One’s Last Supper with His Loved Ones; but remember always, child—it is not the Doleful Supper, which these children of the Adversary say; it is the Loving Cup to commemorate His translation to the One and Only God.”