s of Galilee!" said the man as he toiled up his
endless Calvary and left behind him with every step, far away in the
valley below, all that had made the world fair to him and all the
promises of happiness.

On ahead the Divine Leader had fallen on his knees: the burden of His
Cross seemed greater than He could bear. Rough hands helped to drag him
up from the ground and set Him once more on His tedious way. His cheeks
were wan and pale, blood trickled from the thorn-crowned brow, but there
was no wavering in the lines of the face though they were distorted with
pain, no giving in, no drawing back, not though one word from those
livid lips could have called even now unto God, and ten thousand legions
of angels would have come down at that word to avenge the outrage and to
proclaim His godhead.

And in the wake of his Master the Christian plodded on, dragging his
burden on his arm, the cross which he had to bear. Gradually behind him
the noise became more and more subdued, then it died down
altogether--all but a confused and far-away murmur which mingled with
the sighing of the Tiber.

And the Christian was alone once more--alone with memory.

Taurus Antinor's breath came in short, stertorous gasps, his throat was
parched and his tongue clove to the roof of his mouth. The slope of the
hill is precipitous here, and the house--nigh to the summit--seemed to
recede farther and farther with devilish malignity.

And the sense of silence and of solitude became more absolute, a fitting
attendant on memory. On and on the two men walked, the Christian and his
burden; their sandalled feet felt like lead as they sank ankle-deep in
the mud of the unpaved road.

"Come, take up thy cross and follow me!" and the Christian plodded on in
the wake of the Divine Presence that beckoned to him upwards from above.

From time to time Caligula's hoarse and querulous voice would break the
death-like silence.

"Are we not there yet?"

"Not yet. Very soon," the praefect would reply.

"I am a fool to have trusted myself to thee, for of a truth thou leadest
me to my death."

"Patience, Caesar, yet a little while longer."

"May the gods fell thee to the earth. I would I had a poisoned dagger by
me to kill thee ere thou dost work thy treacherous will with me. Thou
son of slaves, may death overtake thee now ..."

"God in heaven grant that it may, O Caesar," said the praefect fervently.

Now at last the houses became more sparse. Only here