At length the judge began--"Let the servant from the _Officium_ stand
forth." The _officialis_ answered that he had brought a prisoner charged
with Christianity; she had been brought to him by the military on the
night of the riot.

The _scriba_ then read out the deposition of one of the _stationarii_, to
the effect that he and his fellow-soldiers had received her from the hands
of the civic force on the night in question, and had brought her to the
office of the Triumvirs.

"Bring forward the prisoner," said the judge; she was brought forward.

"Here she is," answered the _officialis_, according to the prescribed
form.

"What is your name?" said the judge.

She answered, "Callista."

The judge then asked if she was a freewoman or a slave.

She answered, "Free; the daughter of Orsilochus, lapidary, of
Proconnesus."

Some conversation then went on among the magistrates as to her advocate or
_defensor_. Aristo presented himself, but the question arose whether he
was _togatus_. He was known, however, to several magistrates, and was
admitted to stand by his sister.

Then the _scriba_ read the charge--viz., that Callista was a Christian, and
refused to sacrifice to the gods.

It was a plain question of fact, which required neither witnesses nor
speeches. At a sign from the Duumvir in came two priests, bringing in
between them the small altar of Jupiter; the charcoal was ready lighted,
the incense at the side, and the judge called to the prisoner to sprinkle
it upon the flame for the good fortune of Decius and his son. All eyes
were turned upon her.

"I am not a Christian," she said; "I told you so before. I have never been
to a Christian place of worship, nor taken any Christian oath, nor joined
in any Christian sacrifice. And I should lie did I say that I was in any
sense a Christian."

There was a silence; then the judge said, "Prove your words; there is the
altar, the flame, and the incense; sacrifice to the genius of the
Emperor."

She said, "What can I do? I am not a Christian." The judges looked at each
other, as much as to say, "It is the old story; it is that inexplicable,
hateful obstinacy, which will neither yield to reason, common sense,
expediency, or fear."

The Duumvir only repeated the single word, "Sacrifice."

She stopped awhile; then she came forward with a hurried step. "O my
fate!" she cried, "why was I born? why am I in this strait? I have no god.
What can I do? I am abandoned; why sh