Join us speedily yonder.' He pointed towards Rome.

On Basil's lips quivered a word, a question, but before it could be uttered the soldier had stridden away, his casque gleaming in the sun, and his sword clanking beside him.
Again with mind confused, Basil went to his cell, and sat there head on hand, trying to recover the mood, the thoughts, with which he had risen this morning.

But everything was changed.

He could no longer think of the past; the future called to him, and its voice was like that of the Gothic trumpet, stirring his blood, urging him to activity.

At midday some one knocked, and there entered Deodatus.
'Where is Felix ?' was Basil's first question.
Felix was gone, but only to the town at the foot of the mountain, where he and two of his fellows would abide until their master left the monastery.