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. O 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.
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