e face of the stern man, and could not find a word of reply.

"Well!" asked the captain, "will you come? Yes or no?"

Selene struggled for self-possession, and when the soldier held out his
hand to her she said with a trembling voice:

"We honor the Emperor but we pray to no statue--only to our Father in
Heaven."

"There you have it!" laughed the beggar.

"Once more I ask you," cried the tribune. "Will you worship this statue,
or do you refuse to do so?"

A fearful struggle possessed Selene's soul. If she resisted the Roman her
life was in danger, and the fury of the populace would be aroused against
her fellow-believers--if, on the other hand, she obeyed him, she would be
blaspheming God, breaking her faith to the Saviour who loved her, sinning
against the truth and her own conscience. A fearful dread fell upon her,
and deprived her of the power to lift her soul in prayer. She could not,
she dared not, do what was required of her, and yet the overweening love
of life which exists in every mortal led her feet to the base of the idol
and there stayed her steps.

"Lift up your hands and worship the divine Caesar," cried the tribune,
who with the rest of the lookers-on had watched her movements with keen
excitement.

Trembling, she set her basket on the ground and tried to withdraw her
hand from her brother's; but the blind boy held it fast. He fully
understood what was required of his sister, he knew full well, from the
history of many martyrs that had been told him, what fate awaited her and
him if they resisted the Roman's demand; but he felt no fear and
whispered to her:

"We will not obey his desires Martha; we will not pray to idols, we will
cling faithfully to the Redeemer. Turn me away from the image, and I will
say 'Our Father.'"

With a loud voice and his lustreless eyes upraised to Heaven, the boy
said the Lord's prayer. Selene had first set his face towards the river,
and then she herself turned her back on the statue; then, lifting her
hands, she followed the child's example.

Helios clung to her closely, her loudly uttered prayer was one with his,
and neither of them saw or heard anything more of what befell them.

The blind boy had a vision of a distant but glorious light, the maiden of
a blissful life made beautiful by love, as she was flung to the ground in
front of the statue of Hadrian, and the excited mob rushed upon her and
her faithful little brother. The military tribune tried in vain t