emption that they had forfeited;
there I had heard the woeful cries of the faint-hearted, who feared death
as much as they feared treason to the most High. There were things to be
seen there that might harrow the soul, but also examples of the sublimest
greatness. Men have I seen there, aye, and women, who went to their death
in calm and silent bliss, and whose end was, indeed, noble--more noble
than that of the much-lauded Codrus or Decius Mus.

"Among all the prisoners there was neither man nor woman who was more
calmly self-possessed, more devoutly resigned, than Magdalen. The words,
'There is more joy in Heaven over one sinner that repenteth than over
ninety and nine that need no repentance,' strengthened her greatly, and
she repented--yea and verily, she did. And for my part, God is my witness
that not an impulse as from man to woman drew me to her, and yet I could
not leave her, and I passed the day by her side, and at night she haunted
my soul, and it would have seemed to me fairer than all in life besides
to have been allowed to die with her.

"It was at the time of the fourth decree of persecution, a few months
before the promulgation of the first edict of toleration.

"He that sacrifices, it is said, shall go unpunished, and he that
refuses, shall by some means or other be brought to it, but those who
continue stiff-necked shall suffer death. For a long time much
consideration had been shown to the prisoners, but now they were alarmed
by having the edict read to them anew. Many hid themselves groaning and
lamenting, others prayed aloud, and most awaited what might happen with
pale lips and painful breathing.

"Magdalen remained perfectly calm. The names of the Christian prisoners
were called out, and the imperial soldiers led them all together to one
spot. Neither my name nor hers was called, for I did not belong to the
prisoners, and she had not been apprehended for the faith's sake. The
officer was rolling up his list, when Magdalen rose and stepped modestly
forward, saying with quiet dignity, 'I too am a Christian.'

"If there be an angel who wears the form and features of man, his face
must resemble hers, as she looked in that hour. The Roman, a worthy man,
looked at her with a benevolent, but searching gaze. I do not find your
name here,' he said aloud, shaking his head and pointing to the roll; and
he added in a lower voice, 'Nor do I intend to find it.'

"She went closer up to him, and said out lou