Close to the money-changer’s stalls a hand was lifted on high, holding a crucifix, and the child could see it steadily progressing through the crowd towards the Curia.  Every one made way for the sacred symbol and the bearer of it; and to Mary’s fancy the throng parted on each side of the advancing image of the Redeemer, as the waters of the Red Sea had parted at the approach of the people of God.  The murmurs in that part of the square grew louder; the acclamations of the populace waxed fainter; every voice seemed to fail, and presently a frail figure in bishop’s robes, small but rigidly dignified, was seen to mount the steps and finally disappear within the portals of the Curia.

The turmoil sank like an ebbing wave to a low, enquiring mutter, and even this died away when the diminutive personage, who looked the taller, however, for the crucifix which he still held, came out on the balcony, approached the parapet, and stretched forth the arm that held the image above the heads of the foremost rows of the people.

At this Horapollo stepped up to Alexander, his eyes flashing with rage, and demanded that the intruder should be forbidden to speak; but the commanding eye of the new-comer rested on the dyer, who bowed his head and allowed him to proceed.  Nor did one of the senators dare to hinder him, for every one recognized him as the zealous, learned, and determined priest who had, since yesterday, filled the place of the deceased bishop.

Their new pastor began, addressing his flock in as loud a voice as he could command: 

“Look on this Cross and hearken to its minister!  You languish for the blessing of Christ, and you follow after heathen abominations.  The superstitious triumph, through which I have struggled to reach you, will be turned to howls of anguish if you stop your ears and are deaf to the words of salvation.

“Yea, you may murmur!  You will not reduce me to silence, for Truth speaks in me and can never be dumb.  I say to each of you that knows it not:  The staff of the departed Plotinus has been placed in my hands.  I would fain bear it with gentleness and mercy; but, if I must, I will wield it as a sword and a scourge till your wounds bleed and your bruises ache.

“Behold in my right hand the image of your Redeemer!  I hold it up as a wall between you and the heathen abomination which you hail with joy in your blindness.

“Ye are accursed and apostate.  Lift up your hearts, and look at Him who died on the cross to save you.  Verily He will not let him perish who believeth in Him; but you! where is your faith?  Because it is night ye lament and cry:  The Light is dead!’ Because ye are sick ye say:  ‘The physician cannot heal!’

“What are these blasphemies that I hear:  ’The Lord and His Church are powerless!  Magic, enchantments, and heathen abominations may save us.’  —­But, inasmuch as ye trust not in the true Saviour and Redeemer, but in heathen wickedness, magic, and enchantments, punishment shall be heaped on punishment; and so it will be,—­I see it coming—­till ye are choked in the mud and seek with groans the only Hand that is able to save.