The masters of the slave girl dragged Paul and Silas along.  At their heels came the shouting mob and when they came in front of the praetors, the men cried out: 

“See these fellows!  Jews as they are, they are upsetting everything in the city.  They tell people to take up customs that are against the Law for us as Romans to accept.”

“Yes!  Yes!” yelled the crowd.  “Flog them!  Flog them!”

The praetors, without asking Paul or Silas a single question as to whether this was true, or allowing them to make any defence, were fussily eager to show their Roman patriotism.  Standing up they gave their orders: 

“Strip them, flog them.”

The slaves of the praetors seized Paul and Silas and took their robes from their backs.  They were tied by their hands to the whipping-post.  The crowd gathered round to see the foreigners thrashed.

The lictors—­that is the soldier-servants of the praetors—­untied their bundles of rods.  Then each lictor brought down his rod with cruel strokes on Paul and Silas.  The rods cut into the flesh and the blood flowed down.

Then their robes were thrown over their shoulders, and the two men, with their tortured backs bleeding, were led into the black darkness of the cell of the city prison; shackles were snapped on to their arms, and their feet were clapped into stocks.  Their bodies ached; the other prisoners groaned and cursed; the filthy place stank; sleep was impossible.

But Paul and Silas did not groan.  They sang the songs of their own people, such as the verses that Paul had learned—­as all Jewish children did—­when he was a boy at school.  For instance—­

  God is our refuge and strength,
  A very present help in trouble. 
  Therefore will we not fear, though the earth do change,
  And though the mountains be moved in the heart of the seas;
  Though the waters thereof roar and be troubled,
  Though the mountains shake with the swelling thereof.

As they sang there came a noise as though the mountains really were shaking.  The ground rocked; the walls shook; the chains were loosened from the stones; the stocks were wrenched apart; their hands and feet were free; the heavy doors crashed open.  It was an earthquake.

The jailor leapt to the entrance of the prison.  The moonlight shone on his sword as he was about to kill himself, thinking his prisoners had escaped.

“Do not harm yourself,” shouted Paul.  “We are all here.”

“Torches!  Torches!” yelled the jailor.

The jailor, like all the people of his land, believed that earthquakes were sent by God.  He thought he was lost.  He turned to Paul and Silas who, he knew, were teachers about God.

“Sirs,” he said, falling in fear on the ground, “what must I do to be saved?”

“Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ,” they replied, “and you and your household will all be saved.”