His illness was perhaps caused by excess of
rigour in penitence. To-day he prayed with many tears that the Roman
martyr would enlighten him, and make him understand his duty to
Rome.
As he was leaving the church, a hand touched him; he turned, and
beheld the deacon Leander, who led him apart.
'It is well that I have met you,' said the cleric, with less than
his usual bland deliberation. 'A messenger is at your house to bid
you come to me this evening. Can you leave Rome to-morrow?'
'On what mission?'
Leander pursed his lips for a moment, rolled his eyes hither and
thither, and said with a cautious smile:
'That for which you have been waiting.'
With difficulty Marcian dissembled his agitation. Was this the
saint's reply to his prayer? Or was it a temptation of the Evil
Power, which it behoved him to resist?
'I am ready,' he said, off-hand.
'You will be alone for the first day's journey, and in the evening
you will be met by such attendants as safety demands. Do you
willingly undertake the charge? Or is there some new danger which
you had not foreseen?'
'There is none,' replied Marcian, 'and I undertake the charge right
willingly.
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