out into the field to show them what to do. In the meantime he had been
telling them of the love of Jesus and how He had come to save to the
uttermost those who would believe on Him. One lingered behind to shoot,
but his hand trembled too much. The other did not have the courage to
do the man of God any injury. That night they said they would not stay
longer. He paid them for the day's work, bade them godspeed and they
departed.

But he did not always escape suffering so easily. One afternoon as he
was passing by the priest's home the priest accosted him and said:
"Captain, why is it you do not stop with me any more? You used to do
so, but of late you have passed me by." He urged the Captain so
strongly that he decided to stay all night. They offered him wine to
drink, which he refused. Then they gave him coffee. That night he
suffered agony and was sick for some time after reaching home. He was
sure he had been poisoned.

He suffered many persecutions from unsympathetic neighbors, not only
from criticism, but sometimes from bodily injuries and from painful
abuse, all of which he bore with an equanimity of spirit which would do
credit to any martyr to the cause of Christ.

Dr. Z. C. Taylor relates a trying experience through which he and
Captain Egydio passed together.

"The Captain and I were together one day returning home from a
preaching tour by a near cut, passing the door of our greatest
persecutor, Captain Bernadino, who on seeing us, seized a stick, and
running to us, beat back our hordes, crying, 'Back, back, you cannot
pass my house.' A plunge of my horse caused my hat to fall off, which
he handed me and continued to force our retreat. We returned by way of
the home of his son-in-law, who was a baptized believer, and while this
brother was piloting us down a hill to another way home Captain
Bernadino, jumping from behind a bush, caught my horse by the bridle.
He had an assassin at his heels, with axe in hand, asking every minute
what he should do. Captain Bernadino wore out his stick on my horse,
planting the last stroke across my loins; then he struck me about a
dozen times in the breast with his fist. I said to him, 'Captain, why
are you beating me, I believe in God; do not you also?' Stopping and
panting he said, 'Do you believe in God, you rascal?' 'Yes,' I said,
'and Jesus also who came to save us sinners.' 'Don't let up, don't let
up, hit him, hit him,' cried his wife and children. He pulled the
br