Theobald, however,
had not been kindled by Christina's enthusiasm, so she fell back upon the
Church of Rome--an enemy more dangerous, if possible, than paganism
itself. A combat with Romanism might even yet win for her and Theobald
the crown of martyrdom. True, the Church of Rome was tolerably quiet
just then, but it was the calm before the storm, of this she was assured,
with a conviction deeper than she could have attained by any argument
founded upon mere reason.
"We, dearest Theobald," she exclaimed, "will be ever faithful. We will
stand firm and support one another even in the hour of death itself. God
in his mercy may spare us from being burnt alive. He may or may not do
so. Oh Lord" (and she turned her eyes prayerfully to Heaven), "spare my
Theobald, or grant that he may be beheaded."
"My dearest," said Theobald gravely, "do not let us agitate ourselves
unduly. If the hour of trial comes we shall be best prepared to meet it
by having led a quiet unobtrusive life of self-denial and devotion to
God's glory. Such a life let us pray God that it may please Him to
enable us to pray that we may lead."
"Dearest Theobald," exclaimed Christina, drying the tears that had
gathered in her eyes, "you are always, always right.
Pages:
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102