Startled at this interruption, the people looked round, while Orestes
stopped and made his way swiftly to Pathema's aid, thinking in all
simplicity that a robber or a madman had entered the church. The
gladiator was strong, but the shepherd was stronger, and ere the former
could draw his sword he was pinned to the floor as with an oaken hand.
The spectacle was like the grappling of prostrate giants.

"Thou art guilty of sedition and violence!" yelled Demonicus.

Others of his official order passing by and hearing the noise, came
quickly to his aid, the accusation was repeated, and the shepherd
meekly submitted--he never meant to defy the law.

Miriam pleaded for her beloved mistress in tears, but she was rudely
thrust aside as too insignificant for arrest.

Then were Pathema and Orestes and others led out of the church and into
the street. They formed a silent, little company, surrounded and
followed by an excited jeering crowd. And as the crowd increased in
strength--"Death to the detested Christians!" was the noisy frequent
cry.

With bowed head and weary heart, and with her sense of modesty
painfully shocked, Pathema passed on with her fellow-Christians to the
humiliating place of safe-keeping for the night.

Their trial came off next day, but it was a mockery. Fanatical hate
and bribery did their foul work--there was no justice whatever, and
sentence of death was passed!

An appeal was made to Rome.

To that great city Pathema and her fellow prisoners were finally
transported, and there they were imprisoned.

Among the poor and sick and dying of Patara and its neighbourhood, was
no one more missed and mourned than the compassionate maiden who
languished and wept in a far away Roman prison--wept, not so much for
her own wrongs, as for the griefs and pains of others.

"O Lord, I cry to Thee--
Unending night, a mournful robe,
Enwraps my form, and veils my sight
From flower, and stream, and all I love--
My bondage break, O God!

"If I no more behold
My Crito, Lord, on him look down
With watchful eye, and send Thy light,
Restore his strength, and make him Thine;
Regard my love for him.

"Biona's tender care
Provide for, Lord, and guard from ill;
The father's wound, in pity heal.
Remember all the desolate
For whom I weep and pray.

"My parents, Lord, uphold;
Their grief assuage; Thy Spirit send
And teach of Him who suffered more
Tha