When he went
away, his handsome countenance wore a smile of thoughtful
satisfaction.
As though this conversation had relieved him, the sick man at once
began to mend. But with his recovery came another torment. Lying in
fear of death and hell, he had opened his soul to Pelagius, and had
revealed secrets upon which depended all he cared for in this world.
Not only he himself was ruined, but the lives of those he had
betrayed were in jeopardy. That suspicion was busy with him he knew;
the keen-sighted deacon had once already held long talk with him,
whereupon followed troublesome interrogation by Bessas, who had
since regarded him with somewhat a sullen eye. How would Pelagius
use the knowledge he had gained? Even when quite recovered from the
fever, Marcian did not venture to go forth, lest an enemy should be
waiting for him without. In his weak, dejected and humbled state he
thought of the peace of a monastery, and passed most of his time in
prayer.
But when a few days had passed without event, and increasing
strength enabled him to think less brain-sickly, he began to ask
whether he himself had not peradventure been betrayed It was a long
time since he had seen Heliodora, who appeared to be making no
effort for the conquest of the Greek commander; had she merely
failed, and lost courage, or did the change in her mean treachery?
To trust Heliodora was to take a fool's risk; even a little wound to
her vanity might suffice to turn her against him.
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