rought any message from
the Emperor; Syrianus replied that he had none. He was then reminded
that Constantius had promised to leave Alexandria in peace. To this he
agreed, but gave no reason for his presence. Things went on as usual
for three weeks, when the blow that all had been expecting fell.

It was midnight, and the Bishop was holding a vigil service in the
Church of St. Theonas, when suddenly shouts and cries broke the
silence of the night. Syrianus with five thousand men had surrounded
the building, determined to take the Patriarch, alive or dead.

In the dim light of the sanctuary Athanasius sat on the Bishop's
throne, calm and unmoved in the midst of the tumult. "Read the 135th
Psalm," he said to one of the deacons, "and when it is finished, all
will leave the church." The words rang out through the building with
their message of hope and confidence and were answered by the people:

"Praise the Lord, for He is good: for His mercy endureth forever.

"Praise ye the God of gods: for His mercy endureth forever."

Those who were nearest the Bishop pressed him to escape. "The
shepherd's place is with his flock," he answered firmly.

Hardly was the Psalm ended when the soldiers rushed in with drawn
swords. Many of the people fled; others were trampled underfoot or
slain.

Athanasius sat still, his hands folded in prayer. Again they urged him
to flee. "Not until all have left the church," he replied.

In desperation, the clergy and monks ended by taking the matter into
their own hands. Seizing Athanasius in their arms, they bore him out
of the church, passing right through the midst of the soldiers, who
were searching everywhere for the Patriarch. It seemed, indeed, as
Athanasius himself said later, as if God had covered their eyes.

Into the darkness of the winter's night he fled, an exile and a
fugitive once more.

Chapter 8
THE INVISIBLE PATRIARCH

IT was indeed the hour of darkness, and it seemed as if the powers of
evil were let loose upon the world. The Arians, with the Emperor on
their side, were carrying everything before them. Nearly all the
Bishops who had upheld the Nicene faith were in exile or in prison.

St. Antony, over a hundred years old, was on his deathbed. His monks,
crowding around the dying Saint, groaned over the evil days that had
befallen the Church.

"Fear not," replied the old man, "for this power is of the earth and
cannot last. As for the sufferings of the Church, was