"You must not misread me; you must know why I have done what I have done. My arm was too weak to wield a weapon in your defence, but my vile body might well be flung away to rescue yours. Hildebrand is dead. Hieronymus found me a suit of armor. I came as the challenger, resolved to fall and die."
"I knew this," confirmed Hieronymus; "but I was pledged to keep his secret."
Perpetua looked into Robert's eyes tenderly. What could be said of devotion such as his?
"The law demands my death as the very seal of your innocence. But it is better to die thus in your service than to live forever having wronged you in a thought."
Fighting emotions swayed Perpetua's soul. Hardly knowing what she said, she spoke quickly:
"You must not die. Your life is very dear to me. I love you." Her cheeks flamed crimson as she spoke, but her lips and her eyes were steadfast.
"You could not love this monster. You pity me and you call your pity love."
All Syracuse watched and wondered at the colloquy between the redeemed maid and the mysterious fool who had taken the place of the Lord Hildebrand. Now they saw Perpetua spring to her feet.
"I love you," she said to Robert, "for I love your noble soul."
She left him and advanced to the place where the figure like the King sat. "King," she cried, so that all could hear, "give me this man!"
Instantly the figure like the King answered her:
Robert staggered to his feet and limped over to where Perpetua stood.
Robert saw the eyes of the kingly likeness fixed upon him, and he knew that they asked him if he was content to escape death by this gate.
"No, no, no!" he cried, in answer. He turned to Perpetua. "I should be baser than I have ever been if I took you at your word. Though no man may recognize me for a king over men, at least there is one realm in which I will rule. Here I am king, and while reason rules in my brain and my blood runs in its channels, I will live a king and die a king, king over myself and my own evil passions. Take me to my death."
There came no change over the face of him who seemed the King; only his eyes, terribly bright, were fixed on Robert's eyes and seemed to flood them with light. Robert turned to the platform and mounted the steps. Perpetua gave a cry and would have fallen but that Theron caught her in his arms. Hieronymus held out his crucifix to the doomed man. One of the executioners, who had a torch in readiness, stooped and applied its flame to the piled-up faggots. Red tongues of fire licked at the dry wood.