region than earth. Her
face was pale and worn but eminently beautiful, with the light of
heaven on her thoughtful brow. All around, thousands upon thousands of
human eyes, gazing with inhumane curiosity, were an abashing and
disturbing sight themselves. But with the solitary object of their
gaze, the flow of mental energy was smoothly but strongly and
consumingly in the channel of the spiritual emotions. The hidden
struggle with conflicting streams of feeling was all gone through in
the bitterness and supplications of the dungeon. The agony was past,
and Pathema was resigned.

"That sad sweet countenance entrances me," said Myrtis, deeply moved.
"Oh Coryna, I go, and yet I cannot! Whence that light and peace?"

Coryna replied not, for she could not. But from among the _pullati_ or
poor people, immediately below, an answer of a kind came. It was in
the subdued voice of a shepherd from the mountains of Lycia. Orestes
had nimbly escaped while Pathema was being removed from the prison not
long before; but at the risk of recapture he had entered the
amphitheatre, determined, like Peter, to see the end, not out of
curiosity but of Christian love, hoping against hope. He sat at the
end of a seat near one of the _vomitoria_ or doors of entrance from the
internal lobbies in the shell of the building. Although his garb was
soiled and worn, his face was thoughtful, humane and resolute, like the
rugged rocks of Taurus. His remarks were not intended for other ears,
but were the half-audible, broken sentences of an intense mind.

"Listen!" said Coryna, recovering herself, "he speaks in our own
tongue; and they heard such expressions as--

"The peace of God, which passeth all understanding.
Enduring--enduring! Life is but a fleeting breath at best.
Corrupt--corrupt! Is not this foul spectacle around her the proof?
She would not live for a human name--worthless from the low-viewed
multitude--nor for pleasure, nor for mere living, at the price of
loyalty to Christ. Yet she would live--live that she might humbly aid
these people to rise up from the pit of the sensual savage mind--into
the light, the glorious light. But she is rejected and despised. Like
her Master, she must be sacrificed--in cruelty and shame. If it be
possible, let this cup pass from her, I beseech Thee, O God!"

Pathema knew not that in the vast multitude above there was one--her
fellow-countryman and co-worker, the humble shepherd of mount
Tau