That--that--But you, Ptolimus--a wise and worthy servant of the Lord--tell me to the best of your convictions: May I die in the belief that it was not a sin to conclude a peace with the Arab conquerors of the Greeks ?--May I, even at this hour, think of the Melchites as heretics ?" The prelate drew his still upright figure to its full height, and his mild features assumed a determined--nay a stern expression as he exclaimed: "You know the decision pronounced by the Synod of Ephesus--the words which should be graven on the heart of every true Jacobite as on marble and brass 'May all who divide the nature of Christ--and this is what the Melchites do--be divided with the sword, be hewn in pieces and be burnt alive!'-- No Head of our Church has ever hurled such a curse at the Moslems who adore the One God!" The sufferer drew a deep breath, but he presently added with a sigh: "But Benjamin the Patriarch, and John of Niku have tormented my soul with fears! Still, you too, Ptolimus, bear the crosier, and to you I will confess that your brethren in office, the shepherds of the Jacobite fold, have ruined my peace for hundreds of days and nights, and I have been near to cursing them.

But before the night fell the Lord sent light into my soul, and I forgave them, and now, through you, I crave their pardon and their blessing.

The Church has but reluctantly opened the doors to me in these last years; but what servant can be allowed to complain of the Master from whom he expects grace?
So listen to me.

I close my eyes as a faithful and devoted adherent of the Church, and in token thereof I will endow her to the best of my power and adorn her with rich and costly gifts; I will--but I can say no more .-- Speak for me, Orion.

You know--the gems--the hanging...." His son explained to the bishop what a splendid gift, in priceless jewels, the dying man intended to offer to the Church.