The Roman officer, who now came past with a troop of soldiers to receive the Emperor outside the city, was greeted by the crowd with loud shouting.  He commanded silence and made the soldier tell him what had so violently excited the people.

“Very possibly,” said the tribune, a sinewy and stern-looking man, who, like Fuscus, had served under Tinnius Rufus, and had risen from a sutler to be an officer, “Very possibly—­but where are your proofs?”

“Most of the citizens helped in reerecting the statue, but the Christians held aloof from the work,” cried the beggar.  “There was not one to be seen.  Ask the sailor, my lord; he was by and he can bear witness to it.”

“That certainly is more than suspicious.  This matter must be strictly inquired into.  Pay heed, you people.”

“Here comes a Christian girl!” cried the sailor.

“Lame Martha; I know her well,” interrupted the beggar.  “She goes into all the plague-stricken houses and poisons the people.  She stayed three days and three nights at my brother’s turning the children’s pillows till they were carried out.  Wherever she goes death follows.”

Selene, now known as Martha, paid no heed to the crowd, but with her blind brother Helios, now called John, went calmly on her way which led from the raised bank down to the landing-quay.  There she wished to hire a boat to take her across the stream, for in a village on the island over against the town dwelt some sick Christians to whom she was carrying medicines and whom she was intending to watch.  For months past her whole life had been devoted to the suffering.  She had carried help even into heathen homes, and shrunk from neither fever nor plague.  Her cheeks had gained no color, but her eyes shone with a gentler and purer light which glorified the severe beauty of her features.  As the girl approached the captain he fixed his eyes on her, and called out: 

“Hey! pale-face—­are you a Christian?”

“Yes, my lord,” replied Selene, and she went on quietly and indifferently with her brother.

The Roman looked after her, and as she passed by Hadrian’s statue, and, as she did so, dropped her head rather lower than before, he roughly ordered her to stop and to tell him why she had averted her face from the statue of Caesar.

“Hadrian is our ruler as well as yours,” answered the young girl.  “I am in haste for there are sick people on the island.”

“You will bring them no good!” cried the beggar.  “Who knows what is hidden there in the basket?”

“Silence!” interrupted the tribune.  “They say, girl that your fellow-believers overthrew the statue of Caesar in the night.”

“How should that be?  We honor Caesar no less than you do.”

“I will believe you, and you shall prove it.  There stands the statue of the divine Caesar.  Come with me and worship it.”  Selene looked with horror in the face of the stern man, and could not find a word of reply.