“Now I wish one could be a Christian within and remain a pagan without,” I answered grimly; “though alas! that may not be.  Martina, do you not understand that it was for no such reasons as these that I kissed the Cross; that in so doing I sought not fortune, but to be its servant?”

“By the Saints! you’ll be tonsured next, and ill enough it would suit you,” she exclaimed.  “Remember, if things grow too—­difficult, you can always be tonsured, Olaf.  Only then you will have to give up the hope of that lady who wears the other half of the necklace somewhere.  I don’t mean Irene’s sham half, but the real one.  Oh! stop blushing and stammering, I know the story, and all about Iduna the Fair also.  An exalted person told it me, and so did you, although you were not aware that you had done so, for you are not one who can keep a secret to himself.  May all the guardian angels help that necklace-lady if ever she should meet another lady whom I will not name.  And now why do you talk so much?  Are you learning to preach, or what?  If you really do mean to become a monk, Olaf, there is another thing you must give up, and that is war, except of the kind which you saw at the Council the other day.  God above us! what a sight it would be to see you battering another bishop with a hook-shaped staff over a question of images or the Two Natures.  I should be sorry for that bishop.  But you haven’t told me who converted you.”

“Barnabas of Egypt,” I said.

“Oh!  I hoped that it had been a lady saint; the story would have been so much more interesting to the Court.  Well, our imperial mistress does not like Barnabas, because he does not like images, and that may be a sting in her honey.  But perhaps she will forgive him for your sake.  You’ll have to worship images.”

“What do I care about images?  It is the spirit that I seek, Martina, and all these things are nothing.”

“You are thorough, as usual, Olaf, and jump farther than you can see.  Well, be advised and say naught for or against images.  As they have no meaning for you, what can it matter if they are or are not there?  Leave them to the blind eyes and little minds.  And now I must be gone, who can listen to your gossip no longer.  Oh!  I had forgotten my message.  The Augusta commands that you shall wait on her this evening immediately after she has supped.  Hear and obey!”

Having delivered this formal mandate, to neglect which meant imprisonment, or worse, she threw her cloak about her, and with a wondering glance at my face, opened the door and went.

At the hour appointed, or, rather, somewhat before it, I attended at the private apartments of the palace.  Evidently I was expected, for one of the chamberlains, on seeing me, bowed and bade me be seated, then left the ante-room.  Presently the door opened again, and through it came Martina, clad in her white official robe.

“You are early, Olaf,” she said, “like a lover who keeps a tryst.  Well, it is always wise to meet good fortune half way.  But why do you come clad in full armour?  It is not the custom to wait thus upon the Empress at this hour when you are off duty.”