over the still athletic mould of his limbs.
Petrus had heard nothing but good of Paulus, and yet he measured him now
with no friendly eye, for all that wore the aspect of extravagance
repelled his temperate and methodical nature. Paulus was made conscious
of what was passing in the senator's mind when, without vouchsafing a
single word, he took the key from his hand. It was not a matter of
indifference to him, that this man should think ill of him, and he said,
with some embarrassment:

"We do not usually go among people without a sheepskin, but I have lost
mine."

Hardly had he uttered the words, when Phoebicius came back with Hermas'
sheepskin in his hand, and cried out to Petrus:

"This I found on my return home, in our sleeping-room."

"And when have you ever seen Polykarp in such a mantle?" asked Dorothea.

"When the gods visit the daughters of men," replied the centurion, "they
have always made choice of strange disguises. Why should not a perfumed
Alexandrian gentleman transform himself for once into one of those rough
fools on the mountain? However, even old Homer sometimes nodded--and I
confess that I was in error with regard to your son. I meant no offence,
senator! You have lived here longer than I; who can have made me a
present of this skin, which still seems to be pretty new--horns and all."

Petrus examined and felt the skin, "This is an anchorite's garment," he
said; "the penitents on the mountain are all accustomed to wear such."

"It is one of those rascals then that has found his way into my house!"
exclaimed the centurion. "I bear Caesar's commission, and I am to
exterminate ill vagabonds that trouble the dwellers in the oasis, or
travellers in the desert. Thus run the orders which I brought with me
from Rome. I will drive the low fellows together like deer for hunting,
for they are all rogues and villains, and I shall know how to torture
them until I find the right one."

"The emperor will ill-requite you for that," replied Petrus. "They are
pious Christians, and you know that Constantine himself--"

"Constantine!" exclaimed the centurion scornfully. "Perhaps he will let
himself be baptized, for water can hurt no one, and he cannot, like the
great Diocletian, exterminate the masses who run after the crucified
miracle-monger, without depopulating the country. Look at these coins;
here is the image of Caesar, and what is this on the other side? Is this
your Nazarene, or is it the old god, the