Читать книгу Fabiola; Or, The Church of the Catacombs онлайн

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“Thou hast touched her to the quick, Sebastian,” said her husband; “knowest thou not that she is dumb?”

“I knew it not, noble Nicostratus; for when last I saw her in Asia she could speak.”

“For six years,” replied the other, with a faltering voice, “her once eloquent tongue has been paralyzed, and she has not uttered a single word.”

Sebastian was silent for a moment; then suddenly he threw out his arms, and stretched them forth, as the Christians always did in prayer, and raised his eyes to heaven; then burst forth in these words:

“O God! Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the beginning of this work is Thine; let its accomplishment be Thine alone. Put forth Thy power, for it is needed; intrust it for once to the weakest and poorest of instruments. Let me, though most unworthy, so wield the sword of Thy victorious Cross, as that the spirits of darkness may fly before it, and Thy salvation may embrace us all! Zoë, look up once more to me.”

All were hushed in silence, when Sebastian, after a moment’s silent prayer, with his right hand made over her mouth the sign of the cross, saying: “Zoë, speak; dost thou believe?”