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diff --git a/33607-h/33607-h.htm b/33607-h/33607-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f57ec4d --- /dev/null +++ b/33607-h/33607-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3042 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<HTML> +<HEAD> + +<META HTTP-EQUIV="Content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + +<TITLE> +The Project Gutenberg E-text of The Mother of St. Nicholas, by Grant Balfour +</TITLE> + +<STYLE TYPE="text/css"> +BODY { color: Black; + background: White; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +P {text-indent: 4% } + +P.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +P.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; } + +P.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +P.finis { font-size: larger ; + text-align: center ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +H4.h4center { margin-left: 0; + margin-right: 0 ; + margin-bottom: .5% ; + margin-top: 0; + float: none ; + clear: both ; + text-align: center } + +IMG.imgcenter { margin-left: auto; + margin-bottom: 0; + margin-top: 1%; + margin-right: auto; } + +</STYLE> + +</HEAD> + +<BODY> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Mother of St. Nicholas, by Grant Balfour + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Mother of St. Nicholas + A Story of Duty and Peril + +Author: Grant Balfour + +Release Date: September 2, 2010 [EBook #33607] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS *** + + + + +Produced by Al Haines + + + + + +</pre> + + +<BR><BR> + +<A NAME="img-cover"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-cover.jpg" ALT="Cover art" BORDER="2" WIDTH="418" HEIGHT="639"> +</CENTER> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="img-front"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-front.jpg" ALT=""Bearing her awful cross in the footprints of the Nazarene."" BORDER="2" WIDTH="670" HEIGHT="490"> +<H4 CLASS="h4center" STYLE="width: 670px"> +"Bearing her awful cross in the footprints of the Nazarene." +</H4> +</CENTER> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS. +</H1> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +(SANTA CLAUS) +</H4> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A Story of Duty and Peril. +</H3> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +BY +</H4> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +GRANT BALFOUR, +</H3> + +<H5 ALIGN="center"> +Author of "The Fairy School of Castle Frank." +</H5> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +TORONTO: +<BR> +THE POOLE PRINTING COMPANY, LIMITED, +<BR> +PUBLISHERS. +</H4> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="noindent" STYLE="margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 80%"> +Entered, according to Act of the Parliament of Canada, in the year one +thousand eight hundred and ninety-nine by A. BALFOUR GRANT, in the +office of the Minister of Agriculture. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +CONTENTS +</H2> + +<TABLE ALIGN="center" WIDTH="80%"> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">Chapter</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> </TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">I. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap01">Watching for the Prey</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">II. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap02">A Ministering Angel</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">III. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap03">Still on the Watch</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap04">The Amphitheatre</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">V. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap05">The Influence Working</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap06">The Indignation of Tharsos</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap07">The Perplexity of Carnion</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap08">Waiting for the Victim</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap09">In the Arena</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">X. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap10">The Lion</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap11">The Man with the Dagger</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap12">Discipline</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap13">Night</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap14">Day</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap15">Saint Nicholas</A></TD> +</TR> + +</TABLE> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap01"></A> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS +</H2> + +<H5 ALIGN="center"> +(SANTA CLAUS). +</H5> + +<BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER I. +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +WATCHING FOR THE PREY. +</H4> + +<P> +Go back into the third century after Christ, travel east into the +famous Mediterranean Sea, survey the beautiful south-west coast of Asia +Minor, and let your eyes rest on the city of Patara. Look at it well. +Full of life then, dead and desolate now, the city has wonderful +associations in sacred and legendary lore—it saw the great reformer of +the Gentiles, and gave birth to the white-haired man of Christmas joy. +</P> + +<P> +Persecution had beforetime visited Patara, in common with other parts +of the Roman Empire; and there were ominous signs, like the first +mutterings of an earthquake, that a similar calamity might come again. +The prejudice and malice of the common people were dangerously stirred +up to fight the quiet, persistent inroads of aggressive Christianity. +</P> + +<P> +The authorities, perplexed and exasperated, were disposed to wink at +assault upon individual Christians, to try them on any plausible +pretext, and to shew them little quarter. If they could arrest the +ringleaders, especially people of rank or wealth, whether men or women, +in anything wrong or strongly suspicious, that they might apply +exemplary punishment, then the irritated majority might be satisfied, +and peace in the city restored. +</P> + +<P> +In a recess at the corner of a busy street, leading towards the market +place, two men stood, waiting and watching for some particular person +to pass by. They were Demonicus and Timon, whose office or duty was +something like that of a modern detective. +</P> + +<P> +Demonicus, clad in a brown <I>chiton</I> or tunic reaching down to the +knees, was a powerfully built, dark man, with great bison-like +shoulders and thick neck, bristling eyebrows, and fierce, covetous +eyes. To him nothing was too perilous or too mean where there was +strife or the chance of gold. He was a wrestler and mighty swordsman, +he had often fought in the stadium or circus, and his fame had +travelled as far as Rome, to which he went at last, and greatly +distinguished himself for a time. +</P> + +<P> +Timon, similarly clad, was only a man of ordinary strength; but he was +lithe, self-willed and shrewd, with a streak of courtesy and sympathy. +</P> + +<P> +Camels, bullocks, horses, mules and wagons were passing by—a +picturesque train of noisy, dusty movement on an unpaved street—while +now and again a carriage or a litter appeared, whose occupants were +considered either arrogant, or effeminate. +</P> + +<P> +"Her carriage must have passed," said Demonicus savagely. +</P> + +<P> +"It cannot be," replied Timon civilly; "the lady, though unfettered by +custom, rarely takes her carriage; she usually passes on foot shortly +after the morning meal, and I came here to watch in ample time." +</P> + +<P> +"We must arrest her to-day on some pretext or other," muttered +Demonicus. "I shall dog her steps everywhere, and if I cannot get a +good excuse I shall invent one. The bribe," added he with an impatient +gesture, "is too tempting for more delay." +</P> + +<P> +Timon, though also grasping, was not heart and soul with Demonicus. +When on the watch alone he had had time to reflect, and his better +nature would now and again assert itself, as there stole over his +vision a beautiful figure with a noble work in hand. He wanted the +prize but was not in hot haste to win it, and while it seemed judicious +it also felt agreeable to suggest delay. After a brief silence he +remarked— +</P> + +<P> +"There is to be a special gathering of the Christians in the Church of +the Triple Arch to-night. The bishop is away at Myra. But Orestes, +the shepherd, is to be present, and I promise thee something will be +said that will give us a plausible backing; his words are plain, ay +even bold as the cliffs of Mount Taurus, where he dwells. Should we +not wait till then, Demonicus?" +</P> + +<P> +"I shall not," answered he, stamping his heavy, sandalled foot +viciously; "it would be our last chance, and the woman might not be +there." +</P> + +<P> +"The lady is sure to be," rejoined Timon, "she is the spirit of the +whole movement." +</P> + +<P> +Demonicus paced about reflecting, and having cooled down, he +mumbled,—"I shall see, but I shall miss no chance before." +</P> + +<P> +Timon now stepped out and looked along the street, then turning +immediately round to his companion with a hesitating, half-regretful +look, he whispered— +</P> + +<P> +"She is coming!" +</P> + +<P> +The face of Demonicus glowed with an evil flame, as he went forward +quickly to assure himself. The lady with her attendant, a liberated +female slave, was seen approaching on foot, and both men retreated into +the recess and waited. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap02"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER II. +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +A MINISTERING ANGEL. +</H4> + +<P> +Pathema, the eldest daughter of a prosperous merchant, walked with her +servant Miriam through the crowded street, heedless or unconscious of +danger; then passing two pairs of eyes directed towards her veiled +face, she turned at right angles into the Stenos, a short quiet street +leading towards the river Xanthus. +</P> + +<P> +Without haste, yet her progress was steady and good, with a natural +grace set free by the loose Ionic dress—a cream-coloured <I>chiton</I>, +girdled at the waist and falling from the shoulders to the feet in many +folds, and above it a short mantle in gold-brown, bordered with white. +Full of work of a high order, her dark eyes and finely carved mouth +spoke beneficent purpose, while her fair countenance showed an Oriental +seriousness and thought. +</P> + +<P> +Pathema might have spared herself a life of labour and risk and +self-sacrifice. She might have enjoyed a life of fashion and pleasure +and ease. Besides this, her beauty and accomplishments could have +easily secured for her a home and affluence, had she so desired. But +she had cast in her lot with One who had lived a higher life, which in +working-out had made him a man of "no reputation." Pathema was a +Christian, and as such had made herself a set of determined and +malicious enemies. Her Christianity could not be mistaken. There was +no mere form about it, no casual acts of duty, no hysterical nights, no +insipidity, and no compromise,—the gods must go. It was a clear, +steady, every-day light, peeping up in childhood, and burning brighter +and brighter thro' the years. Though a lover of knowledge and fond of +reasoning, she wasted no time in a vain jangle about faith and works, +but illustrated both in her daily life. Encouraged by her parents, and +acting as their medium, and that of other benefactors, she attended to +the wants of a wide circle of sick and poor, both heathen and +Christian. Like her Lord himself, she went about doing good. No one +cheered and comforted the members of the Christian community more, no +one was a greater inspiration, and no one was more unassuming. +</P> + +<P> +On the left bank of the Xanthus stood a large residence belonging to a +man of wealth, a business friend of Pathema's father. In front there +was no altar to Apollo Agyieus, and no statue of any god, the owner +having distinct leanings toward Christianity. All that met the eye was +a Victor's Laurel tree, behind the house, which was much greater in +depth than width, was a garden, containing such trees as pomegranate, +orange, and fig. +</P> + +<P> +To that house Pathema went. Ascending the steps and knocking at the +door, she was met by a porter (with his dog), who led her and Miriam +past his lodge and along the narrow passage to the first peristyle—a +partly open courtyard. Here they awaited the appearance of the +mistress. On all four sides were colonnades, under which were a +banqueting room, a picture gallery, a library, servants' office, +sitting rooms, and several bed-chambers. The visitors had not long to +wait. +</P> + +<P> +"Peace be with you!" said the mistress, with a gracious smile. +</P> + +<P> +"Joy to thee!" was the reply. +</P> + +<P> +Entering a chamber on the right, Pathema was gently conducted to the +bedside of Crito, an invalid boy, his parents' pride and tender care. +Crito had received a good education, and, when well, was active, witty +and intelligent. But he had been hurt internally while wrestling in +the gymnasium with an older lad, and for a time his life hung in the +balance. Several days had elapsed since Pathema saw him, and he was +now fast asleep. She did not speak, but looked on him awhile with +earnest anxious eyes. At length a gleam of hope lit up her face, and +she was about to leave softly when Crito, as if conscious of some +departing force, suddenly opened his eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Hail! Pathema; steal not thyself away," said he smiling. +</P> + +<P> +"I steal but a gem of hope—surely a lighter load," was the laughing +answer. +</P> + +<P> +"And yet thou hast left it in my breast, thou absent-minded robber." +</P> + +<P> +Bending down, Pathema kissed his bosom, saying, "And I am glad to leave +it there." +</P> + +<P> +"And go forth hopeless?" queried he. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said she, shaking her head in feigned solemnity, and Crito +laughed. +</P> + +<P> +Leaving figures of speech, Pathema expressed her joy that there +appeared to be good ground for hope. Then they entered into an +animated conversation about the Iliad and the Odyssey, books that the +Hellenic people used as we do Robinson Crusoe, Shakespeare, and the +Bible. Before parting they conversed about the Memoirs of the +Apostles, called in our day the Gospels. +</P> + +<P> +"I love the Nazarene's moral courage," said Crito. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," replied Pathema, "to be invited, for instance, to dine with a +number of the learned, and without personal provocation to feel +compelled to denounce them as hypocrites, must have been a severe trial +of his courage." +</P> + +<P> +"It seems easier to face wounds and the loss of blood than the loss of +reputation," rejoined Crito. +</P> + +<P> +"It is, but, of course, the full test is to face both. The applause of +his comrades, of the whole army and of his nation, fires the spirit of +the brave soldier that climbs the frowning walls of a besieged city; +but the Nazarene had not the applause of a single soul when He faced +the certainty of cruel death upon the cross; worse, there was derision, +and He himself even cried out that God had forsaken Him." +</P> + +<P> +"The cross means a great deal," said Crito reflectively. +</P> + +<P> +"It was endured in love for us," was the reply. +</P> + +<P> +"The love was great," remarked the boy. +</P> + +<P> +Pathema now rose up to go, and Crito was very sorry; but he knew that +there were many other poor and tried ones waiting to welcome her, and +he urged himself to resignation. +</P> + +<P> +"Come back on the morrow," said he, "and stay with me longer; I weary +much for thee." +</P> + +<P> +Having kissed her hand respectfully, the boy looked after her wistfully +as she departed like a heavenly angel. +</P> + +<P> +Going next into the humble abode of an old man, whose only attendant +was a little granddaughter, Pathema with her maid proceeded at once to +put the place in thorough order, aiding the slender one with the +heaviest work, such as it was. The child had always done well, but +stronger arms could of course do better, and everything was soon in +special dress. Then Pathema had a comforting talk with the grandfather +and with his faithful little servant-maid, ending by telling her a +charming tale of a Forest Nymph. Before leaving she placed a silver +coin in the old man's trembling hand; and as she departed, he could +only say, "God bless thee," while the child clung to her sympathetic +hand for some distance along the street. +</P> + +<P> +Thus Pathema, accompanied by her servant, went from house to house a +messenger of mercy. The harvest-field of suffering and privation was +then, as ever, white; but the reapers were few, and of modern reaping +instruments—hospitals and "homes"—there were none. How much +Christianity has done, yet how much to do! +</P> + +<P> +Partaking of a plain mid-day meal of <I>maza</I>, barley bread, and figs, +with a venerable heathen widow whose heart was opening to Christianity, +she also supplied this poor one's need, and resumed her journey +refreshed. +</P> + +<P> +The afternoon was well advanced when they passed underneath the Triple +Arch of the city wall on their way outward to a sheltered spot not far +beyond. In a clump of olive trees and beside a limpid spring, they +came upon a hut occupied by motherless children, alone and unprotected, +the hireling having left the day before. Sadder still, the only one +old enough to give material help, and who did help as long as she was +able, Biona, a girl of twelve, was dying of consumption. The sight to +Pathema was very distressing, but she attended promptly to the wants of +the sick one, laving her face and hands, and giving her a little +nourishment, while Miriam looked after the younger children and the +house. +</P> + +<P> +Biona was somewhat revived, and Pathema sat down beside her to whisper +just a consoling word or two at intervals. The girl expressed heir +gratitude briefly, showing it more in her large, hollow but brilliant +eyes, which rested for a time in peace on her visitor's tender face. +The peace was of short duration, for Biona was very feeble. She moved +her head and hands uneasily in the hot air of the little room, and at +last exclaimed in a low plaintive voice—"Oh! for breath and rest, +rest." +</P> + +<P> +"Let me carry thee out, my dear, as thy father does, and lay thee among +the olive trees," said Pathema, feeling keenly, while she held the +invalid's thin, white hand bearing the marks of toil. +</P> + +<P> +"Thou art not able," replied Biona huskily, and with grateful tears, +adding to herself in a dreamy whisper—"My father, poor father!" +</P> + +<P> +But Pathema was wiry and enduring, easily fit for the fragile burden, +and having by a word persuaded the sufferer she wrapped her in a long +white <I>chiton</I>, and carried her with great tenderness out into the +cooler welcome air, beside the refreshing spring. +</P> + +<P> +"How delightful is rest!" said the dying girl, as she gazed up through +the olive branches into the clear blue sky. +</P> + +<P> +"There is abundance of rest in store, my beloved, even the rest that +remaineth for the people of God." +</P> + +<P> +Biona lay quietly, enjoying a measure of peace. Her pet white dove, +flying from an overhanging branch, came down beside her; it hopped upon +the pillow, and with gentle wing softly brushed her pallid cheek. She +turned her head toward it, and gazing fondly upon the affectionate +creature, forgot her weariness for a time—a little time. Then she +began to move her head restlessly, whispering often and with yearning +look the word father. +</P> + +<P> +The watchful attendant changed the weary one's position, and gave her +rest again. This was done as often as it was needed, and the need had +no end. Pathema prayed earnestly for the sufferer's recovery or +release. Her voice was the heart's melody, soft and soothing, if to +soothe were possible. +</P> + +<P> +The father, a big sympathetic man, had by this time reached the +bordering olive trees, on his way home from a brief search for aid. +His clothing was very simple and plain: a dark <I>exomis</I> (a short +sleeveless frock), and shoes of leather, studded with nails. As was +common, he was bareheaded. He had a melancholy foreboding that +calamity was near at hand. His oxen stood idle in their stall from +early morning. Noticing with surprised relief that his child was +already out in the grove, with some merciful one reclining by her side, +he stole up a little nearer and halted unobserved. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! for rest, rest," his daughter faintly cried; and the strong man +shook with emotion. "Oh! that I might be at rest!" she cried again, as +if a last feeble effort, "but how hard it is, how hard! to leave my +little brothers and my poor lonely father." +</P> + +<P> +Creeping closer, Pathema raised Biona's weary head and placed it +tenderly in her own bosom. Feeling that the spark of life was low (for +the little hands were getting cold), and that words were unavailing, +she closed her eyes and became absorbed in silent prayer. +</P> + +<P> +A little interval and then, with pleading face, the simple words of the +child— +</P> + +<P> +"Father in heaven, take into thy kind care my father and brothers;" +</P> + +<P> +And then, with a peaceful smile— +</P> + +<P> +"Oh mother, I come!" +</P> + +<P> +The father came forward delicately and softly behind and looked down, +his eyes full of tears. The child raised her languid eyes and smiled, +a strange, yearning heavenly smile; then she drew a deep breath and +fell asleep—her rest, the long last rest, had come. +</P> + +<P> +Let the veil lie drawn tenderly over the poor father's sorrow. It is +sufficient to say that everything was done for his beloved one and his +home that could be done before Pathema and her faithful servant left. +The mourner's gratitude, deep and full, was their comfort and reward. +</P> + +<P> +"My mistress," said Miriam, in an entreating respectful voice as they +turned towards the city in weary sad silence, "thou art much in need of +rest; wilt thou not proceed home, for the gathering of our people will +be well-nigh broken up ere we pass by?" Miriam was wise and good, she +loved her mistress fervently, and was trusted and treated as a +companion, not as a liberated slave. +</P> + +<P> +"We pass the door, my Miriam, and it would be a rest to turn aside and +listen to the life-giving Word," answered Pathema, looking tenderly +into the devoted woman's tired face; "yet for thy sake, thy needful +release, I shall go on with thee." +</P> + +<P> +"No, my mistress, no,—thy desire is good and right." +</P> + +<P> +The Church of the Triple Arch was not far away, and the two plodded +patiently and trustfully back into the city, thinking not of any danger +that might come. Their day's work was done—hard and heart-trying, yet +beautiful, and as an exercise of mercy, beneficial to subject as well +as object, for "there is that scattereth and yet increaseth." Good +were it for the world if all mankind did their possible and necessary +share. The moon shone high and clear in the star-lit temple of the +sky. The night was calm, and nothing broke the stillness save the +discordant, mocking cry of a laughing hyena far behind, with an +occasional, distant shout rising from the city in front. As they +emerged from the olive-grove, the pet white dove, pursued by a +swift-winged night-hawk, swept like an arrow across their track, as if +an omen of coming trouble. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap03"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER III +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +STILL ON THE WATCH. +</H4> + +<P> +Demonicus and Timon stood at the open door of the Christian church, not +far from the Triple Arch of the city wall, listening to the voice of +the shepherd Orestes, and eagerly watching for something whereby they +might seize him and certain others. But Demonicus, <I>sycophantes</I>, +constable, and gladiator all in one, was irritated, for the prize had +not yet arrived; and as the time sped on, his tiger-nature exhibited +itself in low growls at his calmer companion. +</P> + +<P> +"Another day," snarled he, "and the case will have turned into other +hands." +</P> + +<P> +"I do not despair," replied Timon, "and yet, to be frank, I almost +repent—it seems a shame to lay hands on such a woman." +</P> + +<P> +"Art thou, my brave Timon, also becoming a meek and beautiful +Christian?" said Demonicus with a sneer. +</P> + +<P> +Annoyed at the tone, Timon answered firmly—"The lady's life is a +blessing to Patara." +</P> + +<P> +"Soft one, weak one, coward!" hissed Demonicus. +</P> + +<P> +"The lady is a goddess!" cried Timon, galled into defiance, "and the +coward is he that would lay foul hands upon her." +</P> + +<P> +"Draw! defend thyself!" roared Demonicus, and the two men faced each +other with drawn swords and glaring eyes. +</P> + +<P> +At this juncture, Pathema and Miriam appeared upon the scene, and +without hesitation the former gently and earnestly entreated them not +to slay one another. As if by mutual consent, the enraged men lowered +their sword-points and turned them into the sheaths. Demonicus was +agreeably surprised and he cooled down quickly—before him after all +was the trophy wanted. Timon did not want it—the lady's voice and +courage strengthened his heart's bent in the right course, and he +quietly walked away. Demonicus stepped aside; even his rough heart +could be moved to a certain degree of respect, while Pathema, pale and +sad, walked noiselessly into the church and sat down with Miriam in the +nearest empty seat. +</P> + +<P> +The shepherd had finished with his earnest simple story of redemption, +illustrating it by reference to what he knew so well—the spotless, +passive lamb. He was now telling the attentive listeners that the lamb +would one clay become a lion, that all human governments would be +broken in pieces, and that Jesus Christ would rule the earth in +righteousness and peace. "It may be," added he with emphasis, "that +that hope-inspiring day is at hand!" +</P> + +<P> +Revolutionary doctrine like this the debased Demonicus rejoiced to +hear. Like the Jewish pretence before Pilate, it was enough, and the +love of lucre spurred him on. He waited not a moment more, but hurried +boldly into the church. Accusing Pathema of taking part in sedition, +he seized her by the arm and ordered her to rise up and follow him. +</P> + +<P> +Startled at this interruption, the people looked round, while Orestes +stopped and made his way swiftly to Pathema's aid, thinking in all +simplicity that a robber or a madman had entered the church. The +gladiator was strong, but the shepherd was stronger, and ere the former +could draw his sword he was pinned to the floor as with an oaken hand. +The spectacle was like the grappling of prostrate giants. +</P> + +<P> +"Thou art guilty of sedition and violence!" yelled Demonicus. +</P> + +<P> +Others of his official order passing by and hearing the noise, came +quickly to his aid, the accusation was repeated, and the shepherd +meekly submitted—he never meant to defy the law. +</P> + +<P> +Miriam pleaded for her beloved mistress in tears, but she was rudely +thrust aside as too insignificant for arrest. +</P> + +<P> +Then were Pathema and Orestes and others led out of the church and into +the street. They formed a silent, little company, surrounded and +followed by an excited jeering crowd. And as the crowd increased in +strength—"Death to the detested Christians!" was the noisy frequent +cry. +</P> + +<P> +With bowed head and weary heart, and with her sense of modesty +painfully shocked, Pathema passed on with her fellow-Christians to the +humiliating place of safe-keeping for the night. +</P> + +<P> +Their trial came off next day, but it was a mockery. Fanatical hate +and bribery did their foul work—there was no justice whatever, and +sentence of death was passed! +</P> + +<P> +An appeal was made to Rome. +</P> + +<P> +To that great city Pathema and her fellow prisoners were finally +transported, and there they were imprisoned. +</P> + +<P> +Among the poor and sick and dying of Patara and its neighbourhood, was +no one more missed and mourned than the compassionate maiden who +languished and wept in a far away Roman prison—wept, not so much for +her own wrongs, as for the griefs and pains of others. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">"O Lord, I cry to Thee—</SPAN><BR> +Unending night, a mournful robe,<BR> +Enwraps my form, and veils my sight<BR> +From flower, and stream, and all I love—<BR> +My bondage break, O God!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2.5em">"If I no more behold</SPAN><BR> +My Crito, Lord, on him look down<BR> +With watchful eye, and send Thy light,<BR> +Restore his strength, and make him Thine;<BR> +Regard my love for him.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2.5em">"Biona's tender care</SPAN><BR> +Provide for, Lord, and guard from ill;<BR> +The father's wound, in pity heal.<BR> +Remember all the desolate<BR> +For whom I weep and pray.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2.5em">"My parents, Lord, uphold;</SPAN><BR> +Their grief assuage; Thy Spirit send<BR> +And teach of Him who suffered more<BR> +Than mortal man, to ransom me<BR> +From death—the Christ, my strength.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"Yet, Lord, how hard to die<BR> +So soon. Oh! to behold the sun,<BR> +To breathe the air, to clasp the flowers,<BR> +Embrace my 'loved, now loved tenfold;<BR> +But, Lord, Thy will be done!"<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap04"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IV. +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE AMPHITHEATRE. +</H4> + +<P> +The Colosseum or amphitheatre in Rome was a gigantic, costly building, +oval in shape, 100 feet in height, 1900 feet in circumference, and +capable of seating 100,000 spectators—a huge egg laid by Imperial +power and demoniac love of pleasure. Its external wall rose up in +three rows of columns, Doric, Ionic and Corinthian, forming 80 arcades +or arches in each row, and was capped by a solid wall with Corinthian +pilasters and small square windows. There was no roof, shelter from +sun or rain being given by a movable awning called the <I>velarium</I>. The +higher arcades were adorned with statues and chariots, and admitted +light and air. Four of the basement arches at the extremities were the +entrances for the great, while the remaining seventy-six were for the +common people. Rising from the top of a low wall or balcony that stood +on the ground many feet inward, was the <I>gradus</I> or slope of seats, +which extended half-way up the high surrounding shell. The highest +seats were a colonnade or portico reserved for women. On the slope +under the portico, were the three <I>maeniana</I> or galleries, separated by +walls and by landing places for the many staircases. The uppermost +gallery, with benches of wood, was for the <I>pullati</I> or common people; +the next below, for the <I>popularia</I>; and the farthest down, of stone or +marble and cushioned, for members of the equestrian order. Below this +was the inner wall or balcony (referred to above), called the <I>podium</I>, +the place of honour, on which sat the Emperor and his family, senators, +chief magistrates, vestal virgins, and distinguished visitors. The +Emperor occupied a pavilion, named the <I>suggestus</I>, while the others +sat on cushioned chairs or reclined on couches. The <I>podium</I> was about +15 feet from the ground, its edge bordered with metal trellis work, and +its front faced with marble, to prevent the ascent of wild beasts when +frightened or enraged. The arena was the immense space within, being +about 281 feet by 176, and it was covered with sand, to keep the +combatants from slipping and to absorb their blood. Here some of the +martyrs of Jesus poured out their life, to gratify horrible curiosity, +and to satiate the hunger of lions. +</P> + +<P> +On a certain day in the latter half of the third century after Christ, +and while the pagan Roman empire still held powerful sway, many +thousands of people had assembled in the amphitheatre to witness a +series of blood-curdling sights and combats. Among these sad +spectacles was the suffering of a noted Christian from the rugged +province of Lycia. +</P> + +<P> +Demonicus, the great gladiator of Patara city, had fallen, his left +cheek was embedded in the sand, his brawny upper arm lay out limp +beside his broken sword, and his life-blood was streaming away. He +would indulge in the love of strife and watch the footsteps of the +innocent for glittering gold no more. His conqueror, Telassar, a big +bearded warrior from Rhaetia, stood erect and proud, with his right +foot on the gladiator's neck, and drinking in the applause that flowed +from the encircling host of sensation-loving, heartless spectators. +</P> + +<P> +After a fierce and prolonged battle, several other gladiators had +ploughed the sand in strange quick succession. Here, face downward, +was a Samnite with his oblong shield; yonder lay a bare headed +<I>retiarius</I> with his net and three-pointed lance. Twenty feet from +Demonicus, a horseman clad in cuirass and helmet was stretched upon his +back wounded and dying, with his round shield and lance lying near. +His handsome black charger had instantly wheeled round, and it now +stood over him with lowered neck in beautiful faithfulness, a tribute +to its master's care and kindness. The other combatants were being +hooked and drawn away like logs into the <I>spoliarium</I>, the grim +receptacle for slaughtered men; the expiring horseman's turn would soon +come. His rival had also reeled and tumbled down, the result of +exhaustion from a severe wound received earlier in the fray. Aided by +an official called a <I>lanista</I>, the victor's struggles to rise up and, +when risen, to keep on his feet, were pitiable in the extreme. +Deprived of its rider, his spirited grey horse, itself slightly +wounded, was bounding round the arena like a frightened antelope. And +considering that there was a circumference of 900 feet in which to +galop and wheel, it gave its pursuers no small degree of trouble. +</P> + +<P> +This state of affairs, coupled with the usual breathing time before the +next act in the tragic drama, allowed the horde of onlookers an +opportunity for a little conversation and even merriment. In the +presence of such horrifying sport with human life, the heathen heart +revealed its kinship with the fallen angels of "Paradise Lost." +Nevertheless in that Roman pandemonium there were exceptions—a few +hearts of a different cast, in which was at work a silent influence, +destined in regal hands to reform the world. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap05"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER V. +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE INFLUENCE WORKING. +</H4> + +<P> +Up in the colonnade reserved for women were two Greek ladies, natives +of Asia Minor: Myrtis, a matron of high rank, and her young friend +Coryna, a maiden of medium height and of perfect mould, with a wealth +of braided auburn hair. The matron wore a <I>stola</I>, a long tunic girded +in broad folds under the breast, and a white <I>palla</I>, a wide upper +garment, loosely over her shoulders. Her companion had a white robe +with a broad purple border, and over it an azure <I>palla</I> covered with +golden stars. Both ladies had refined feelings and elegant manners. +They were in the Colosseum for the first time. +</P> + +<P> +"What dost thou think of all this, my Myrtis?" enquired Coryna, with a +marked expression of pain in her sympathetic countenance. +</P> + +<P> +"Think," answered Myrtis, striving to repress her agitation; "in the +dexterity of the combatants I had a gruesome interest, but upon the +prostrate, dying men I cannot look"; and the stout but comely woman of +tender feeling turned her fair head farther away from the ghastly sight +below. +</P> + +<P> +"It is horrible," remarked Coryna, casting a furtive glance into the +arena. +</P> + +<P> +"I cannot remain," said Myrtis, "but what would Titanus say?" and she +glanced down over the intervening galleries to the <I>podium</I>, where her +illustrious Roman husband sat. +</P> + +<P> +Beside him was Coryna's brother, Tharsos, a distinguished young +officer, wearing a <I>toga</I>, with a white <I>lacerna</I> or mantle of elegant +form. +</P> + +<P> +Behind Titanus stood his young son, Carnion, a raven-haired boy of +twelve, dressed in the <I>toga praetexta</I>, a becoming garment of white +with a wide edge of purple, and suspended from his neck the <I>bulla</I>, a +round ornament of gold, worn especially by the children of the noble. +He held in his hand a cluster of lilies, a little gift meant for +Coryna, but which he had forgotten to hand over when entering the +amphitheatre. +</P> + +<P> +"See how Carnion is disturbed!" observed Coryna; "the dear boy turns +away his head and will not look at the expiring horseman right +underneath." +</P> + +<P> +The mother saw her child's attitude with pleased eyes, indeed they were +often on him. +</P> + +<P> +"Though tender-hearted, yet my Carnion is brave and strong," said she +with a smile of pride. +</P> + +<P> +"He is a soldier, every bit of him," added Coryna. "How different from +his elder brother, Dinarchus!" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, my Dinarchus is a great reader, a young philosopher, a hermit, +dear boy. He is now deep in the study of the Christian books. I would +my Carnion were at home with him to-day, but he expected to see a +wild-beast fight." +</P> + +<P> +"Observe thy husband and my brother—see how calmly they look on!" +</P> + +<P> +"They are soldiers, Coryna, and accustomed as we know to the spectacle +of wounds and blood. To them, the arena must be as nothing to a field +of battle when the clash of sword and spear is past." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, it must be racking, revolting!" exclaimed the other, pained at the +mental vision of mangled heaps of slain; "and our beloved ones hate the +sight." +</P> + +<P> +"They also dislike what they see before them," said Myrtis. "They love +skill, but they have no love for wanton play with human life." +</P> + +<P> +"I wish all Rome hated such idle butchery," remarked Coryna earnestly, +but rather loudly. +</P> + +<P> +Overhearing these remarks, spoken in the Latin tongue, a number of +ladies sneered and smiled. All, or nearly all, who made that wide +investing terrace a wreath of brightness and beauty, were dead to pity. +At the most they could only feel regret for a wounded favorite or a +dying hero. +</P> + +<P> +"I would all the empire were of thy mind, Coryna, and then no such sad +spectacle would stain our own beloved, humaner land. +</P> + +<P> +"Christianity is the deadly enemy of all this wicked work. May it +prosper!" said the young lady fervently. +</P> + +<P> +"There are no Christians here, I venture to say, civil or military," +responded Myrtis. "No follower of the humane Jesus would come within +these walls, unless wronged and led, or bent on some heroic deed. But +we worshippers of a hundred gods can thank our divinities for no good +influence. I hate the gods: may they forgive me!" and the reflective +lady smiled at her own bold scepticism. +</P> + +<P> +"They are myths, so my brother says," added Coryna, with a look of +decision and relief. +</P> + +<P> +"Tharsos is almost a Christian," remarked Myrtis, "and with him I +strongly sympathize." +</P> + +<P> +"He is. But see, he is telling thy husband something, and look how +earnestly Carnion watches his words. Of a surety something strange or +startling is going to present itself next. The uncertainty about the +time of the Christian's appearance must be removed, but my brother's +signal will tell." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap06"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VI. +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE INDIGNATION OF THARSOS. +</H4> + +<P> +Tharsos was speaking with deep but suppressed feeling. +</P> + +<P> +"I have heard of the maiden," he continued, "and have seen her in my +native province. Her good deeds to the poor and the suffering have +been countless. Her whole life has been work and pity and +self-sacrifice. It represents the highest moral beauty." +</P> + +<P> +"Strange," remarked Titanus sympathetically, "that the maiden has held +up under prison life so long." +</P> + +<P> +"Though meek and modest," replied Tharsos, "she possesses a fortitude +that bears incredible strain. I almost believe, indeed I do believe, +that her power must come from Him whom they call Jesus of Nazareth." +</P> + +<P> +"Our laws are evil," said Titanus reflectively, "or such a woman would +have known no strain but daily duty. But thou art becoming Christian, +Tharsos, yet I do not reproach thee—it were good if all men were." +</P> + +<P> +At this stage the riderless steed kicked a pursuing guard on the palm +of his uplifted hand, raised in self defence, and the spectators +laughed heartily. Carnion's attention was diverted for a little from +the serious conversation, and he stepped a few feet away. +</P> + +<P> +"'Evil,' didst thou say! Our heathen system is corrupt and cursed, an +only too ready tool of ignorant malice. For no other reason could the +enemies of the accomplished maiden lead her into this arena"; and +Tharsos writhed under the thought that justified his grave charge. +</P> + +<P> +Titanus was astonished to see a man so loyal and reflective, and +hitherto so quiet and self-possessed, now quivering with indignation. +</P> + +<P> +"Be tranquil, my friend, thou canst not mend matters, and thou hast +done thy duty. Hast thou not told me of thy hastening to the Praefect +to plead for postponement or release, and that this dignitary had +already gone to the Colosseum, with all of the lesser magistrates who +had any possible power?" +</P> + +<P> +"I would that I had received the tidings earlier," was the answer, +spoken in a low tone of deep sadness, even despair. +</P> + +<P> +"Content thee, my dear Tharsos, thou hast done thy best; and strive to +think that speedy death, even if cruel and revolting, is better than +prolonged prison-hardship and degradation." +</P> + +<P> +Tharsos turned and looked up at the serried mass of living faces behind +him, his indignation now controlled, yet he saw no one—none but the +beautiful face of his affectionate sister whom he warmly loved; and +there flashed into his heart—"What if she were the victim!" His +colour changed and his lips tightened. Some strange thought seemed to +enter him, and he arose from his seat. +</P> + +<P> +"Thou wilt, of course, wait and see the maiden?" said Titanus with a +perplexed inquiring look. +</P> + +<P> +But Tharsos stood up to his full height, and cast one withering look +towards Titanus, as much as if to say—"What, witness the butchery of +one like my own sister!" Turning haughtily on his heel, he strode two +steps back to the staircase, muttering something in which there was the +distinct word Lion, and in a moment he was down and out of view. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap07"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VII. +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE PERPLEXITY OF CARNION. +</H4> + +<P> +Amidst the laughter and the babel of voices, Carnion's quick ear caught +the magic word—Lion! +</P> + +<P> +Turning round into his former place, "Is there a lion coming at last, +my father?" he asked eagerly, while his dark eyes sparkled with emotion. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, my son." +</P> + +<P> +"I am very sorry that Tharsos has gone," remarked the boy, looking at +the vomitory (opening) of the staircase. +</P> + +<P> +"He had, he was—rather, he preferred to go; perhaps it is better," +said Titanus with a troubled absent look. +</P> + +<P> +"What kind of lion is coming father?" enquired Carnion, his chief +interest being in that direction. +</P> + +<P> +"A great lion from Libya, my son, a beast fierce and hungry." +</P> + +<P> +"And with what beasts is it going to fight? Will they be wild-boars, +or bears, or tigers, or elephants? How I should love to see a big +battle among them all! Tell me, father, what are the beasts to be." +And the beautiful boy fairly shook with excitement. +</P> + +<P> +The father did not speak for a moment. His brows lowered over large +brown eyes, a crimson wave of shame and anger swept over his handsome +face, followed by a subduing wave of pity, and then he spoke in a tone +that surprised the ardent boy. +</P> + +<P> +"Carnion," said he, "there is little likelihood that the lion will have +anything to fight with." +</P> + +<P> +"Why not, father?" asked the boy, feeling quite disappointed. "Will it +only go round the arena and roar?" +</P> + +<P> +"Were that all, my son, I should be exceedingly glad." +</P> + +<P> +The boy was perplexed:—"What dost thou mean, father?" +</P> + +<P> +"I mean, my son, that the lion is to find its prey in the form of a +defenceless virtuous woman!" +</P> + +<P> +The boy was amazed and his eyes were piercing. "My father," said he +tremulously, "is it the lady Tharsos spoke of?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Carnion." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh father, how cruel!" exclaimed the boy in great distress. "Will +nobody fight for her and save her?" +</P> + +<P> +"If any man be found bold enough to face the most formidable brute that +ever sprang into the arena—that, and that only may save her," answered +Titanus. "But the conditions are hard, so hard that I may say the case +is well-nigh hopeless, and the man that would undertake it would either +be a fool, impelled by inordinate greed, or filled with god-like +self-sacrifice. Neither shield, nor spear, nor sword—nothing but a +bronze dagger is to be allowed her defender, should one come forward, +and he is to be naked but for a slight girdle around his loins." +</P> + +<P> +"Is there no man compelled to fight, oh father?" +</P> + +<P> +"No one, my son. The defence is voluntary. Both Demonicus and +Telassar volunteered; the former is dead, and I fear the latter will +back out. Who else would venture, I know not." +</P> + +<P> +"Father," said the boy, in a trembling tone, yet with a ring of purpose +in it, "wilt thou permit my absence for a little time?" +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly, my son: it was in my mouth to bid thee look into the street +for a little time; or if thy desire be to speak a word with mother thou +mayest, but tell my name to the <I>designator</I> (seat-attendant). +'Titanus' is enough." +</P> + +<P> +Carnion disappeared. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap08"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VIII. +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +WAITING FOR THE VICTIM. +</H4> + +<P> +On the departure of Tharsos, Myrtis had turned and said— +</P> + +<P> +"Thy brother's signal, as thou hast told me, Coryna. Come! let us go." +</P> + +<P> +"It is, but—not yet, dear Myrtis," was the answer in a voice of gentle +firmness. +</P> + +<P> +"And in the face of thy brother's strong desire thou art waiting to +witness the foul torture and death of a lady refined and good—our +fellow-countrywoman too!" +</P> + +<P> +"I shall not behold that," replied the maiden with earnest, hopeful +light in her dark hazel eyes: "some brave man will appear; but if not, +then I shall turn my back or fly when"—She dared not finish, and +Myrtis added— +</P> + +<P> +"When the lion springs. Oh! my Coryna, let us go. This is the work of +demons." +</P> + +<P> +"I cannot, Myrtis, I cannot. I shall know the end sooner here." +</P> + +<P> +"There can be but one end, my dear. The cruel crafty managers, bribed +to get rid of the maiden without more delay, as Tharsos informed thee, +planned this well. What man with a mere dagger could slay a lion? A +naked man too. Coryna, the whole work is contemptible, contemptible!" +And the deep blue eyes of Myrtis flashed forth her scorn, as she looked +down into the arena and scanned it swiftly round till her attention +rested anxiously at the eastern end. +</P> + +<P> +"The Romans love effect," Coryna answered bitterly, as she +unconsciously twisted her long gold necklace around her thumb,—"The +solitary fight will be a striking contrast to the battle that has been." +</P> + +<P> +"There will be no fight, my dear. Who would take such a risk for a +woman, a Christian too? But I shall wait with thee, Coryna, and get a +glimpse of the poor maiden, and let us hope that her God will help her." +</P> + +<P> +Coryna did not speak, but her expressive face told her gratitude and +hope. +</P> + +<P> +The conversation was stopped by the loud blast of trumpets, indicating +that another awful act was to begin; and the great hum of voices +ceased. The sand was clear of everything, as if a bare, vast, oval +table, and all faces were turned toward the eastern extremity of the +arena, morbidly hungering for more scenes of skill and blood. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap09"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IX. +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +IN THE ARENA. +</H4> + +<P> +Pathema was taken from prison, where she had been shut up for a long +time; and the officer in charge was about to open a small door into the +arena to lead her in, when a dark-haired boy, the son of illustrious +parents, came forward with tears streaming down his noble face, and +presented her with a cluster of white lilies. Accepting the flowers +speechlessly but gracefully, the doomed maiden bent down with a full +heart and kissed him. The lilies reminded her of Him who was made +perfect through suffering, and they gave her renewed strength. +</P> + +<P> +"Thy name, my darling?" +</P> + +<P> +"Carnion," was the answer, broken and low. +</P> + +<P> +Stooping down, Pathema put a gentle trembling arm around the boy and +kissing him again, she said— +</P> + +<P> +"My lovely one, God bless thee!" +</P> + +<P> +The guard in uniform opened the door and led the innocent victim into +the great arena. +</P> + +<P> +"The maiden comes: see, yonder," said Coryna, looking intently towards +her. +</P> + +<P> +Myrtis spoke not, but strained her eyes to see. +</P> + +<P> +The Christian maiden approached slowly in charge of the guard till she +was placed in front of the pavilion where sat the emperor, clothed in a +purple robe and on his head a laurel crown. Leaving her there, the +guard withdrew without delay that the keeper might unbar a heavy iron +gate for the wild beast to enter in and devour. +</P> + +<P> +Pathema stood alone, a graceful form in flowing garments, within those +spacious walls. Clothed in mockery in the white robe of a vestal +virgin, yet she was a chaste virgin of Jesus Christ. Bound with a +white fillet, her rich black hair, of lavish length, lay back in +glistening waves. Her soft dark eyes were modestly towards the ground; +once only were they raised, and then to a purer 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. +</P> + +<P> +"That sad sweet countenance entrances me," said Myrtis, deeply moved. +"Oh Coryna, I go, and yet I cannot! Whence that light and peace?" +</P> + +<P> +Coryna replied not, for she could not. But from among the <I>pullati</I> 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 <I>vomitoria</I> 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. +</P> + +<P> +"Listen!" said Coryna, recovering herself, "he speaks in our own +tongue; and they heard such expressions as— +</P> + +<P> +"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!" +</P> + +<P> +Pathema knew not that in the vast multitude above there was one—her +fellow-countryman and co-worker, the humble shepherd of mount +Taurus—pleading for her life with all the intensity of agonising pity. +To her, mercy was a stranger within those living walls, yet with meekly +bended head in steadfast trust she stood, bearing her awful cross in +the footprints of the Nazarene. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap10"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER X. +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE LION. +</H4> + +<P> +The great iron gate was opened up. Into the arena proudly leaped a +glowing-eyed gigantic brute, with tawny coat and heavy mane, the hungry +king of the forest. +</P> + +<P> +All eyes were directed towards him, but Pathema moved not. +</P> + +<P> +"Now may her God help her!" exclaimed Myrtis, bending her head and +burying her face in her hands; but unable to bear the strain, she rose +up and left, leaving her companion absorbed and pained, and her husband +down on the <I>podium</I>, transfixed yet ashamed. +</P> + +<P> +No wild-beast fighter having appeared—no one to gratify the craving +for excitement—a great hum of disappointment soon ascended and rolled +round the amphitheatre. +</P> + +<P> +The lion raised his massive head as if in defiance, and uttered a +mighty, vibrant roar. +</P> + +<P> +The hum of voices stopped. +</P> + +<P> +Pathema's heart trembled in the balance, as a topmast twig before the +first breath of darkening storm. The mere finite fabric would surely +have given way. But if the tremor lasted in varying degree, hesitation +had perched for a moment only. Prolonged habit, woven in as metal +cord, called forth the virtue told in the oft-read words—"What time I +am afraid, I will trust in thee." Strengthened from above, she calmly +turned her head and, as if also in defiance, fixed her eyes full upon +the distant savage brute. +</P> + +<P> +The hungry lion saw the human form—ah! this was strange choice game. +He trod forward with swaying tail—he crept—he crouched low—he would +soon spring—and that fair image of the divine would be struck down, +torn asunder, bled and crunched in pieces! +</P> + +<P> +Was there no eye to pity, none to save? +</P> + +<P> +"Oh that I were a soldier, a gladiator,—no, just a man, a man!" said +Coryna from the depth of a throbbing heart, "then would I rush to the +rescue and save her or die!" +</P> + +<P> +The shepherd could not stand the sight, and as he rose to go away his +face was ghastly white. As he turned with vacant eyes to walk up the +<I>scalaria</I> or steps to the door in the <I>balteus</I> or wall behind, a +voice at his elbow said in the Greek language— +</P> + +<P> +"Here! take this true dagger, friend." +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" replied the shepherd, looking bewildered. +</P> + +<P> +"Dost thou not know the terms?" answered the Greek. +</P> + +<P> +"I am a stranger. What terms?" Orestes asked eagerly. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I thought thou hadst resolved to go to the woman's aid," replied +the man, disappointed. +</P> + +<P> +"Give me the dagger," said the shepherd, a red flush rushing into his +cheek. He had now grasped the situation at a glance, and seizing the +weapon without ceremony or further word, he sprang up three or four +steps and passed through the vomitory of the wall to the stairs leading +down to the lower part of the building. +</P> + +<P> +Coryna heard and saw with joy, but with the racking pain of suspense, +for the shepherd might be—(she dared not think it) would likely +be—too late! +</P> + +<P> +There was a brief, awful lull. +</P> + +<P> +The lion would not leap while those calm heavenly eyes shone full upon +him, and he would not as long as they retained strength. But if +Pathema's head would bow down or turn aside, or if her vital force +would go, and it could not last long, there would then be the sure and +fatal spring. +</P> + +<P> +During this critical pause, Carnion returned. He gave a +half-expectant, eager glance down into the arena. Had there been a +mere wild-beast battle—had the lion been face to face with an Indian +tiger, the sight to the boy would naturally have been grand; but now it +was perplexing and sore. He saw his thread-like hope of rescue +broken—the monster glared upon a frail beautiful woman, and, as yet, +there was no man. Turning aside, he bent his head on the back of the +young officer's empty chair, and hid his tearful eyes, saying to +himself despairingly— +</P> + +<P> +"Will no brave man come, before it is too late?" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap11"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XI. +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE MAN WITH THE DAGGER. +</H4> + +<P> +Another door opened up with a sudden bang, and behold! a fair-haired +youth, almost naked, and armed with a simple dagger, stepped boldly +into the arena. A great shout went up from the spectators, as, without +the least delay, he ran forward and stood between the lion and its +intended victim. +</P> + +<P> +Coryna gave the would-be deliverer one bewildered, piercing glance, +then instantly lowering her head she hid a face of death-like whiteness +in hands clammy with a cold perspiration. +</P> + +<P> +"Father, father, dost thou not know him?" cried Carnion, startled up +with the bang and the shout, and quivering with mingled grief and joy. +</P> + +<P> +Titanus, never without a feeble ray of hope, was yet thunderstruck when +the combatant's identity dawned upon him; and though filled with +admiration, he was visibly troubled. +</P> + +<P> +The brave youth below stood erect and resolute, while the beast, +disconcerted with the shout and the sudden check, rested back flat upon +its limbs and belly. Like David of old when facing the giant, the +young man came forward trusting in the God of Israel. +</P> + +<P> +"Who is that courageous but foolhardy venturer?" enquired the emperor. +</P> + +<P> +"Tharsos, of the praetorian guard, O sovereign." +</P> + +<P> +"One of my noblest and wealthiest officers!" exclaimed the emperor; +"yet let him go—he tends towards the detested Christians," added he +haughtily. +</P> + +<P> +Servilius, the pagan confidant of the emperor, but the enemy of +Tharsos, was secretly delighted. "We shall soon get rid of him, and +Emerentia will be mine," said he to himself, as he leaned over to take +a satisfied, last look at the self-sacrificing nobleman below. +</P> + +<P> +Pathema was struck with amazement, but inexpressibly grieved to think +that the fair form of her defender would be speedily felled to the +earth, and mangled, and devoured! +</P> + +<P> +Tharsos did not stand on the defensive: he took the first step to +battle; and the people gave a deafening shout of approval. He moved +towards the formidable lion with slow but firm tread. The mysterious +light of the steadfast human eye was unbearable—the suspicious beast +rose up and skulked away, with trailing tail and with head turned +partly round to keep watch upon its enemy. Tharsos held on steadily, +purposing that if death should happen to him, it would be as far away +as possible from the eyes of the sore-tried, desolate maiden. +</P> + +<P> +When near the side of the arena right opposite the emperor, the lion +howled with fear and sprang ten feet up towards the balcony, its +eye-balls gleaming just a short space below Titanus and his eager boy. +</P> + +<P> +Rising up quickly, Titanus placed his hand upon the hilt of his sword. +Fain would he have leapt down to the aid of his beloved friend. Their +eyes met for a moment; and, though pale and grave, Tharsos smiled. +</P> + +<P> +Baffled in its leap, the brute turned sharply round, face to face with +its determined pursuer, and uttered a terrific roar of rage. The issue +would soon be decided, and the immense concourse of people held their +breath, while Pathema turned away her head and offered up a silent +prayer to Him who has power over the beast of the field. +</P> + +<P> +Tharsos now drew slowly back, while keeping his eyes towards the +enraged lion. Suddenly withdrawing his gaze, he turned and ran with +swift and bounding steps straight for the eastern extremity of the +arena, while the surprised spectators yelled their contempt after him. +Then the man strangely swayed and tottered in front of the very door +where the calm resolute woman had entered but a few minutes before. +</P> + +<P> +"He plays the coward, he faints, curse him!" was heard on every hand, +as they saw him finally throw up his arms and fall. +</P> + +<P> +"The charge is false, false!" exclaimed an erect, indignant figure with +a pale face up among the women. It was the voice of Coryna, but amidst +the clamour she was not heard except by those immediately around her. +</P> + +<P> +"Hear ye the madwoman!" cried they, as they scoffed and laughed. +</P> + +<P> +The emperor, disappointed and even ashamed, sat in scornful silence. +But Servilius, excited with malignant pleasure, laughed outright. +</P> + +<P> +Then Titanus rose up and drew his glitter-sword. He stepped to the +very edge of the balcony, Carnion at his side, and the eyes of the +people catching sight of him, the loud storm of abuse instantly ceased. +</P> + +<P> +"Too late, too late, and out of order!" Servilius fiercely cried, +fearing the rescue of the man he unjustly hated. +</P> + +<P> +"He who calls my friend Tharsos a coward!" exclaimed Titanus in clear +ringing voice, "shall die. I challenge him to meet me next on the sand +of that arena!" +</P> + +<P> +And Coryna was unspeakably relieved. +</P> + +<P> +But no man would wantonly accept the challenge, for Titanus was agile +and strong, and was one of the most expert swordsmen in the Roman army. +</P> + +<P> +There was, however, much excitement over this bold interruption and at +the announcement of the name of the prostrate man, whose high rank was +widely known. +</P> + +<P> +The indignant Titanus was right—there was no cowardice. The multitude +had entirely misjudged the tactics of the brave Tharsos. The fallen +man lay quietly upon his back, with his face slightly toward the lion, +and with his dagger closely clinched in his strong right hand. +</P> + +<P> +Coryna's feelings were strung to the highest pitch. Her suspense was +agony, but she would not have her brave brother elsewhere. +</P> + +<P> +The ferocious beast, taken by surprise or freed from provocation, +suddenly quieted down. It sat on its haunches for a moment, and looked +after the fleeing man. Then it rose up, and preferring a fallen form +to an erect, it followed him with light majestic tread. It came to +within twenty feet of where he lay, and halted, sitting on its haunches +again. Rising up, it walked around him twice, looking at him curiously +all the time. Satisfied at last that it had an easy prey, it went +forward softly, like a cat. Halting, it bent down to sniff the still, +white, helpless-like figure, and to seize the flank. +</P> + +<P> +The time for action had come. Swiftly Tharsos drew his arm, and with +terrific force thrust the dagger right into the would-be devourer's +heart! +</P> + +<P> +With a mighty yell the lion leaped into the air, and fell heavily +across the body of its destroyer—a dangerous struggle or two, and it +was dead! +</P> + +<P> +Then was the stratagem understood, and when it was coupled with the +name and rank of the self-sacrificing victor, a thundering shout of +applause filled the amphitheatre. +</P> + +<P> +"Well done! brave Tharsos," said the Emperor proudly to the +distinguished noblemen around him, who were all delighted, Servilius +excepted, who vainly strove to conceal his deep displeasure. +</P> + +<P> +Looking deliberately across the arena, the emperor caught Titanus' eye +and smiled. That valiant officer rose up and saluted his sovereign +with becoming dignity and grace. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh father, what a grand fight," exclaimed Carnion, "and the Christian +lady is free!" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, my son," replied the trustful soldier, resting back upon the +chair for a moment with unutterable satisfaction, for the honor of his +friend was upheld, and the virtuous maiden was saved. +</P> + +<P> +The vast multitude were greatly gratified in their feeling of the +sensational. Yet a few were stirred to better thoughts and high +resolves, who would never otherwise be influenced. Thus in the +providence of God does the wrath of man work out His purpose and praise. +</P> + +<P> +The applause was at its height. But, strange to say, Tharsos moved +not. The officials that had gone to his aid removed the huge dead lion +from his body. Still Tharsos moved not. Something appeared to be +wrong, and the great noise stopped. The spectators leaned forward and +looked anxious. Was the dauntless destroyer himself destroyed? The +attendants turned him tenderly over—when, alas! there was a frightful +gash in his naked side, from which the blood was flowing freely into +the sand. His face and lips were white, with an expression of peace, +as if in death. +</P> + +<P> +Titanus, deeply anxious, arose and hastened away to get the best +physician he could find. As he disappeared he glanced upward to the +colonnade, but Coryna, the sister, was gone. +</P> + +<P> +Carnion remained to see more of the stricken man, and of the pale woman +in the centre, silent, unnoticed, and alone. +</P> + +<P> +Promptly but gently the attendants lifted up Tharsos and carried him +from the arena. And as he passed from their sight the vast audience +was hushed in regret. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap12"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XII. +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +DISCIPLINE. +</H4> + +<P> +Pathema also watched their movements and departure, fearing that the +wounded youth was dead. Her heart yearned anxiously after him. Who +was he that had so valiantly fought and bled for her? His name was +Tharsos, and he was a brave, self-sacrificing nobleman—that was all +she could tell. It was enough. Self-sacrifice vividly recalled +another sacrifice, greater, perfect, and for all. The flood-gate of +feeling could not be kept closed. She held the lilies in her drooping +hand, she raised them, looked at them tenderly for a moment, then +buried her face in them, and wept. +</P> + +<P> +A herald now approached Pathema and formally announced that she was +free, at the same time pointing to the open door through which they had +borne the bleeding hero. But to the sensual undiscerning multitude, +Pathema was no heroine. She was only a woman; and in those days when +heathenism prevailed, women were not honoured as they are now. +Besides, Pathema was to them a fanatic, a detested Christian, and at +best but a stubborn, unbending, young woman. They knew not her supreme +gentleness and modesty, which shrank from publicity like a sensitive +plant from touch. They did not know that it was intense love and +loyalty to her Head which gave her strength to dare even cruel death. +</P> + +<P> +Pathema turned to leave the arena, but the tension and turmoil and +reaction were now telling fast upon her fragile frame. As she walked +away, her weakness was so great that she had the utmost difficulty to +keep from falling, and it was only too visible; but she struggled on. +</P> + +<P> +There was no sign of sympathy from the now talkative crowd, wailing for +another scene of blood. They treated her with indifference—she was +but a very secondary actor in the tragedy. Yet, though they knew her +not, she was the greater victor, not that day alone, but in her past +daily life of sacrifice. She was greater than he that slays a lion or +takes a city! +</P> + +<P> +Among the indifferent crowd there was one bright exception. Carnion, +though not then a Christian, yet was fulfilling the beautiful +words—"Rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep with them that +weep." As Pathema walked away with bowed head and faltering steps, the +lad stepped to the edge of the balcony, and waiving his silken +handkerchief, called out—"Thy God bless thee!" And the sufferer heard +the boy's sweet, strengthening voice, and struggled on. +</P> + +<P> +Misunderstood and unregarded by the heartless multitude, yet Pathema's +discipline and victory were the work of God, and they, even the +greatest of them, were but the willing, guilty instruments. She was +being fashioned through suffering in the truest beauty and for the +highest honour—the beauty of holiness, which endures for ever. She +walked meekly and painfully on, she reached the little door, and then +she passed from their guilty presence,—a queen, though uncrowned. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap13"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XIII. +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +NIGHT. +</H4> + +<P> +The unconscious officer's wound was hastily but skilfully bound up and +the blood stanched, he was raised in a <I>lectica</I> or litter, and carried +home with great care to his mansion. In the quietest chamber of the +house, he was laid upon a costly bed, one of rare wood with feet of +ivory and with purple coverlets curiously broidered with gold. +</P> + +<P> +Titanus, having done his utmost, had gone away with Carnion, much cast +down, the more so that he was under command by the emperor to leave +Rome immediately on foreign service. +</P> + +<P> +Coryna was left beside her brother, with the physician and a faithful +intelligent slave. The depth of her feelings could not be sounded, yet +there was staying power of a kind. Grief, admiration and anxiety +surged around a will of rock. Within, a whirling storm: without, a +pallid calm. She watched for the first signs of consciousness as the +eagle watches for its prey. +</P> + +<P> +Tharsos lay as if in death, with the soft light of serenity still on +his manly face and classic brow. He moved at last and opened his eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Where is the Christian maiden?" said he in dreamy feebleness, his +expression changing into a look of anxiety. +</P> + +<P> +Much relieved in tension, Coryna answered softly— +</P> + +<P> +"Some kind one quickly conveyed her away, my brother, but I have sent +several of our slaves over the city to find out her lodging-place and +to enquire after her health." +</P> + +<P> +A radiant joy covered his face, and he remained silent for a little. +Then he spoke with quiet earnestness:— +</P> + +<P> +"My sister, thou knowest her worth. Look after her, I pray thee, for +her own sake, and for the sake of Him she serves so well. But"—and +here he halted, trying painfully to take a deep breath. +</P> + +<P> +"Speak not, my brother," said Coryna soothingly. +</P> + +<P> +Becoming calm, he resumed—"Hasten the search, Coryna; ask the maiden +to come and see me before I die. Tell her that I shall regard her +visit as a kindness and honour. I desire much to speak to her, my +beloved sister, to place thee in her care, and then I shall die in +peace." Tharsos spoke these last words very feebly, and then closing +his eyes he sank bask into unconsciousness. +</P> + +<P> +Coryna's heart was torn, but she would not renounce hope. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center"> +<SPAN STYLE="letter-spacing: 4em">*****</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P> +It was difficult to trace where Pathema had gone, humble Christian +friends having taken her to a remote, obscure, but comfortable home. +One messenger, however, got word of her whereabouts late the same +night, but too late to be prudent to call. When he knocked at the door +next day he did not know that the object of his search was well +informed through her friends concerning Tharsos' critical state, and +that already there was a brief, beautiful, tablet-letter in her own +handwriting, lying near his unconscious pillow. +</P> + +<P> +Weakened by her cruel experience, Pathema was resting quietly upon a +couch beside a small open window, her heart full of gratitude to God +for deliverance and of anxiety about her human deliverer. +</P> + +<P> +"Is there a maiden named Pathema lodging here?" Marcellus, the +messenger, enquired. +</P> + +<P> +"There is, sir," said a little Roman maid, the daughter of the hostess, +much excited as she looked out into the street and saw six slaves in +red livery standing beside a grand palanquin. +</P> + +<P> +"My master, Tharsos, is at the point of death, but he would like to see +the Christian maiden ere he die." +</P> + +<P> +Pathema overheard these words, and rose up at once. Though weak in +body, she was resolute in mind, and she had enjoyed a providential +night's rest. There was no delay in arranging matters, and she stepped +into the <I>lectica</I> calmly but as one about to go through a painful +ordeal. +</P> + +<P> +After elbowing their way through the streets, Marcellus leading, the +slaves at length laid their burden down beside a statue of Caractacus +in the vestibule before the door of the young nobleman's mansion. +</P> + +<P> +Like the usual Roman dwelling, the exterior was not prepossessing; but +when Marcellus opened the door, the prospective view was peculiarly +magnificent. The doors and curtains of successive courts were drawn +aside, revealing active fountains, marble pillars with splendid +statuary, and a lawn and shrubbery exposed above to the blue Italian +sky. +</P> + +<P> +Pathema ascended the marble steps, and passing through the richly +gilded door inlaid with tortoise-shell, she stood for a moment on the +mosaic floor of the <I>ostium</I> or entrance hall. Overhead, a parrot of +brilliant plumage greeted her with the salutation, "Joy be with thee." +Going straight on for a few feet, she passed into the <I>atrium</I>, a +pillared court, where Coryna, the image of Tharsos in finer mould, met +her and kissed her hand in touching silence. +</P> + +<P> +Leading the way, Coryna went on through the <I>cavaedium</I>, a larger +Corinthian-columned court, in whose centre stood a splashing fountain, +shooting its crystal stream towards the open sky. Passing the +<I>tablinum</I> or room of archives, they proceeded into the <I>peristylium</I>, +a still larger transverse court or lawn with verdant shrubbery and a +chaste towering fountain. +</P> + +<P> +Here there was a Roman lady, elegantly dressed and richly jewelled. +Her dark-complexioned face was strikingly beautiful, yet marred by a +lofty look of haughtiness. She walked around the lawn with the alert +graceful movements of a panther. Evidently she was laboring under +considerable excitement, and when Coryna and Pathema entered, her black +eyes flashed out a deadly scorn. +</P> + +<P> +Inwardly disturbed, yet meeting the lady's look with a smile, Coryna +turned aside between the marble columns into one of the <I>exedrae</I> or +rooms for conversation. Guiding Pathema to a comfortable seat, she +spoke for the first time, saying, +</P> + +<P> +"Welcome to our home!" +</P> + +<P> +"I thank thee for the honour," answered Pathema, "and I am glad to +come, yet greatly pained." +</P> + +<P> +"My brother did right," was the quiet response. +</P> + +<P> +"Receive, I pray thee," said Pathema in tears, "my deepest gratitude +for thy brother's deed." +</P> + +<P> +"Tharsos will yet receive it personally," was the happy answer. +</P> + +<P> +"I rejoice to hear thy hope," replied Pathema with brightening eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"I have hope, but the physicians have little or none." +</P> + +<P> +After a little further conversation during which the visitor's whole +heart was drawn out to the noble character before her, Coryna craved +liberty for a moment to bid her friend in the <I>peristylium</I> farewell. +As she went out, a female slave entered to wait upon Pathema and show +her every necessary attention. The slave was not long in her presence +when she bewailed the calamity that had come upon her beloved master. +Then she mentioned that the young lady in the <I>peristylium</I> was much +distressed. +</P> + +<P> +"Emerentia," she continued, "loves him exceedingly, and he liked her in +return. Her father and mother leave to-day for a distant city of the +empire, and she goes with them." +</P> + +<P> +Pathema was grieved, and she expressed the fervent hope that the +nobleman would recover, for the distressed lady's sake, as well as his +own. +</P> + +<P> +"Emerentia," added the slave, "is generous and accomplished—that is +why the master liked her—but her goodness is not so strong as her +pride and jealousy. The lady is fierce in her feelings. She hates the +Christians, and more so now than ever." +</P> + +<P> +After a few minutes Coryna returned, restrained and quiet, but with the +trace of a tear that had stolen down her fair face. +</P> + +<P> +"My brother," said she with hesitation, "earnestly desired that thou +shouldst come and stay with me for a time. Is this possible? May I +hope it is." +</P> + +<P> +Pathema was taken by surprise. Her home and beloved parents and the +poor of Patara had been much in her heart. Her father had been more +than once in Rome, trying to obtain her liberty, and he had provided +long ago the temporary abode she had been carried to by Christian +friends. This now swept across her vision. But it was quickly +followed by another picture—the self-sacrificing act of the nobleman +in whose mansion she was now a guest. And he was dying—so the +physicians feared. Duty—gratitude—consolation—everything demanded +her presence. Her answer was unhesitating and prompt— +</P> + +<P> +"I will stay with thee." +</P> + +<P> +And Coryna bent down and kissed her, with a feeling that was warmly +returned. +</P> + +<P> +Tharsos was beyond the stage of knowing anyone. In spite of the best +medical skill, fever had quickly set in, and the battle began in +earnest between life and death. +</P> + +<P> +Now was the opportunity for a woman's soldiership—soldiership of the +highest kind—where woman only can excel. The weapons are experience, +presence of mind, patience, endurance and compassion. With all these +Pathema was perfectly armed, her value was speedily recognised, and she +became an unassuming soldier in the strife. There were days and nights +of anxious care and watching, the utmost was performed, and nothing +left undone. Yet Tharsos seemed to be marching straight without +resource to the grim enemy's gloomy gate. The thought was painful +beyond measure, but it seemed to Pathema that the noble-minded man must +die! +</P> + +<P> +While the fever lay upon him he spoke in bits of sentences about the +Nazarene, mysterious, divine! and the devoted disciple Pathema. His +language was now subdued and reverential, tender and touching, as if he +stood in the presence of unearthly beings; then indignant, emphatic, +even wild, as if he were again surrounded by the cruel and inquisitive +multitude—a wildness wholly unlike that of the quiet reserved man in +health. Sitting up and pointing to the walls he would cry— +</P> + +<P> +"Great God! the fiends, mad, malignant, blood-thirsty, the fiends of +Tartarus have entered thy fair world in the bodies of men." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap14"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XIV. +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +DAY. +</H4> + +<P> +Tharsos did not die. Had the lion's claws twisted, or torn a little +deeper, or had there been incapable nursing, there would have been no +hope. But the animal missed the vitals, and the faithful nurse made +the most of what remained—she would have readily yielded life at her +loving though painful duty. +</P> + +<P> +When the consuming fever was completely turned and past, and a little +strength gained through death-like sleep and judicious nourishment, it +dawned upon the sick man's mind that someone strange but fascinating +was constantly by his side. And when he learned that his attendant was +Pathema, there came a peace over his soul that could not be expressed. +</P> + +<P> +After a long time Tharsos recovered strength, but he was never again +the same. He was subject to spells of weakness that kept him to his +couch for days, and he had to resign his position in the army. Yet he +lived for many years afterwards, and did a noble work, impossible to be +done in the service of the emperor, a work that could not be hid, as a +good soldier of Jesus Christ. +</P> + +<P> +Pathema, relieved in due time, went back to her home in Asia Minor. +She carried many costly gifts, showered upon her and refused in vain. +But, better still, she carried away the undying devotion of Tharsos, +the close sisterly affection of Coryna, and the goodwill of all that +really knew her worth. +</P> + +<P> +Her parents in Patara were overjoyed at her return, and so were many +others in the city and wide surroundings—many, who waited for tender +attention and waited not in vain. +</P> + +<P> +Tharsos sold his mansion in Rome, and followed Pathema to Patara. He +bought a beautiful residence in that city, and built another farther up +the river Xanthus among the hills. And Pathema became his wife. +Staying in these two houses alternately, at different seasons of the +year, they passed the rest of their lives. No two beings loved ouch +other better, or did a more useful and beneficent work. Their city +home was a centre of Christian light and hospitality, while their rural +retreat was the scene of many joyous and instructive gatherings of the +country people. In these abodes the friendless wanderer, of whatever +race or tribe, could lay down his weary head and there find solace and +rest. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap15"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XV. +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +SAINT NICHOLAS. +</H4> + +<P> +"The house among the olive trees at the base of yonder hill—whose is +it, friend?" enquired a traveller of a pagan whom he met. +</P> + +<P> +"The hospitable home of Tharsos and Pathema," was the reply. +</P> + +<P> +"Thanks be to God!" said the traveller, passing on. +</P> + +<P> +"Who are these two men that sit together in the portico?" asked he of a +Christian as he came up in front of the house. +</P> + +<P> +"Tharsos, the owner of the mansion, and Orestes, a shepherd from the +valley beyond." +</P> + +<P> +"They speak as brothers," said the traveller, raising his eyebrows and +passing by. +</P> + +<P> +Going to a side door, he was about to knock when a woman approached +from behind luxuriant vines, with a twig of olive blossoms in her hand. +She walked towards him with quiet grace, her countenance inspiring all +respect and trust. +</P> + +<P> +Bowing low, the traveller said—"My name is Timon. I have travelled +far, and am footsore and in want." +</P> + +<P> +"Enter in," said Pathema kindly, "sit at yonder table with the rest, +and thou shalt have water to wash thy feet." +</P> + +<P> +Going in, the ex-detective was met by a pretty boy with golden hair and +deep blue eyes, the first-born son of Tharsos and Pathema. The child +took a gentle hold of his sun-brown hand to lead him to food and rest. +The weary stranger clasped the tender fingers, and looking down into +the trusting, thoughtful face, he said—- +</P> + +<P> +"Child of a noble mother, thou hast made me glad." +</P> + +<P> +"Come," said the little one lovingly, "come." +</P> + +<P> +"Tell me thy name, darling." +</P> + +<P> +"My name is Nicholas," replied the boy. +</P> + +<P> +"Thou art a little saint," rejoined the stranger hopefully, "and thou +shalt gladden many." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Wonderful boy of long ago!<BR> +Come now and tell—<BR> +As aged man, with beard of snow<BR> +And hair all white, what gave thy name,<BR> +Adown the years, the glow of fame?<BR> +Explain thy spell<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +O'er countless children waiting thee<BR> +In varied home,—<BR> +Afar inland, beside the sea,<BR> +In lonely cot, and crowded town,—<BR> +Awatching oft in midnight gown,<BR> +For thee to come.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Wert thou a selfish, cunning boy?<BR> +Ah no, ah no!<BR> +Tradition findeth no alloy<BR> +In thy make-up, but giveth thee<BR> +A generous heart, from baseness free,<BR> +Alike the snow.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +White out and in, a giver pure,<BR> +With heart all warm,—<BR> +This! is thy spell, direct and sure,<BR> +O'er boy and girl; who think it good<BR> +To paint thy face in comic mood—<BR> +It does no harm.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +But clothed in loving, reverent mien<BR> +Tradition gives—<BR> +Thou art, in this, by seniors seen,<BR> +To meet the life of one who was<BR> +The mother of Saint Nicholas:<BR> +In thee she lives.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Mother of St. Nicholas, by Grant Balfour + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MOTHER OF ST. 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