the crosses raised their pale, tortured faces, and looked
toward the man who was speaking.

But he went to the barrier surrounding the arena, and blessed them with
the sign of the cross.

Crispus stretched out his arm as if to thunder at him; but when he saw
the man's face, he dropped his arm, the knees bent under him, and his
lips whispered, "Paul the Apostle!"

To the great astonishment of the servants of the Circus, all of those
who were not nailed to the crosses yet knelt down. Paul turned to
Crispus and said,

"Threaten them not, Crispus, for this day they will be with thee in
paradise. It is thy thought that they may be condemned. But who will
condemn?

"Will God, who gave His Son for them? Will Christ, who died for their
salvation, condemn when they die for His name? And how is it possible
that He who loves can condemn? Who will accuse the chosen of God? Who
will say of this blood, 'It is cursed'?"

"I have hated evil," said the old priest.

"Christ's command to love men was higher than that to hate evil, for His
religion is not hatred, but love."

"I have sinned in the hour of death," answered Crispus, beating his
breast. The manager of the seats approached the Apostle, and inquired,

"Who art thou, speaking to the condemned?"

"A Roman citizen," answered Paul, calmly. Then, turning to Crispus,
he said: "Be confident, for to-day is a day of grace; die in peace, O
servant of God."

The black men approached Crispus at that moment to place him on the
cross; but he looked around once again, and cried,--

"My brethren, pray for me!"

His face had lost its usual sternness; his stony features had taken an
expression of peace and sweetness. He stretched his arms himself along
the arms of the cross, to make the work easier, and, looking directly
into heaven, began to pray earnestly. He seemed to feel nothing; for
when the nails entered his hands, not the least quiver shook his body,
nor on his face did there appear any wrinkle of pain. He prayed when
they raised the cross and trampled the earth around it. Only when crowds
began to fill the amphitheatre with shouts and laughter did his brows
frown somewhat, as if in anger that a pagan people were disturbing the
calm and peace of a sweet death.

But all the crosses had been raised, so that in the arena there stood as
it were a forest, with people hanging on the trees. On the arms of the
crosses and on the heads of the martyrs fell the gleam of the sun; b