would but renounce the impious faith of the Christians, as he profanely styled it.

'My lord,' she said, 'I have come hither to die; tempt me not to forsake my heavenly Bridegroom, for He has loved me with an '

Her last words were literally drowned in curses and execrations, 'the atheist, - the devourer of little babes,—the cursed worshipper of an ass,-ah, ah, ah! burn her,-let a lion loose, the tiger,-lower her into seething pitch, -ah, ah!'

She stood unmoved; doubtless she saw, like Stephen, one who stood at God's right hand, and her clasped hands and moving lips spoke of prayer, and suggested the thought of angelic guardianship.

The tormentors approached; they brought with them a large net and strong iron pegs. Throwing their victim to the ground, which she kissed in submission, they enclosed her with the net, and firmly secured it.

A moment's pause, and they retired.

Mad with rage, a wild cow rushed from an open door into the arena, bellowing with fury, and from a safe elevation, the tormentors showered little darts, with inflammable material previously kindled attached to them, and the

wretched beast, maddened with pain, sought an object for its fury, and found it in the martyr.

'Why should I tell, all is past, how this way and that way it gored her,

Tearing her flesh from the bones, for the net protracted her torments?

Scarcely one word could the scribes of the Church catch, only, they fancied,

One brief prayer for herself, and one, so it seemed, for the tyrants.'1

But at last the fierce beast turned away, and left her quivering in the death agony, and the multitude called out impatiently for the end to be put to her sufferings.

The cow was driven away, and a gladiator was sent for.

Suddenly there was a pause; the Emperor had spoken; the herald repeated his words in the dead silence.

'Let them send in the young Caledonian.'

Silence again, until the doorway leading to the gladiators' chambers opened, and Evanus, pale from loss of blood, his left arm in a sling, was seen advancing to the centre of the arena ; he paused, and his colour changed, as he saw the struggling bloody heap before him.

'Caledonian,' cried the herald, 'it is your part 1 Dr. Neale, The Seven Sleepers of Ephesus.

to strike the finishing blow, and to dismiss the spirit of the atheist to the shades.'

What caused the wondrous light which seemed to shine upon the face of Evanus? Was it a reflection from the unseen angels who hovered around the half-finished sacrifice? 'Strike,' shouted the herald.

'I cannot,' replied Evanus.

'The Emperor bids thee.'

'My lord, I cannot slay a defenceless woman.' Art thou, then, a Christian?'

'Alas! no.'

'Wilt thou obey?'

'I cannot.'

His fate would have been sealed that instant, but for the popularity he had gained by his previous valour; it saved him for the moment; the people shouted, 'The Caledonians never strike women,'-'another gladiator,' — ' send another,'' send a Roman,'—' not a Christian, he looks like one,'—'hujus facio,'—'the Christians are never gladiators.'

Meanwhile Maxentius whispered to Pompeianus who stood by his side; the latter wrote on his tablets, and gave the missive to a tabellarius, who left the presence.

And now another gladiator advanced, but his

office was needless, the angels had borne the soul of the released sufferer to Paradise.

The sports were over; the people poured through the vomitoria, comparing their notes; betters made up their books, and counted their gains and losses; the common topic of conversation was the young Caledonian.

'A soft-hearted fellow, but very brave.'

'They say those savages are slaves to their

women.'

'What did he say when asked whether he was a Christian?'

'I thought it was "Alas! no."' 'I only heard the word "no."'

Meanwhile, Evanus, still bearing his wounded hand in a sling, left the amphitheatre, mingled with the crowd, and made his way along the street known as the Via Sacra.

Suddenly a hand touched him on the shoulder.

CHAPTER III.

THE FOLLOWERS OF THE LORD.

HE Via Sacra was crowded to excess; the multitudes, who were returning from the Colosseum, encountered those multitudes, who had been maddening themselves with the wine which flowed in the public fountains. Bands of men and women, scarcely sober enough to preserve the decencies of dress, with ivy bound around their brows, danced like maniacs through the streets. Others stooped down to drink from the gutters, which flowed here and there with wine, diluted with mud, and sometimes even with blood, which marked the scene of some recent affray.

Glaring lights flashed from every temple, palace, and villa, for the Emperor had ordered a general illumination on the third day of his reign.