, nor would I if I could.
Rather will I be disgraced and perish."

"I suppose," mused Saturius, "that this is what they call true love,
and to speak plainly," he added with a burst of candour, "I find it
admirable and worthy of a noble Roman. My lord Marcus, my mission has
failed, yet I pray that the Fates may order your deliverance from
your enemies, and, in reward for these persecutions, bring back to you
unharmed that maiden whom you desire, but whom I go to seek. Farewell."

Two days later Stephanus, the steward of Marcus who waited upon him in
his prison, announced that a man who said his name was Septimus wished
speech with him, but would say nothing of his business.

"Admit him," said Marcus, "for I grow weary of my own company," and
letting his head fall upon his hand he stared through the bars of his
prison window.

Presently he heard a sound behind him, and looked round to see an old
man clad in the robe of a master-workman, whose pure and noble face
seemed in a strange contrast to his rough garments and toil-scarred
hands.

"Be seated and tell me your business," said Marcus courteously, and with
a bow his visitor obeyed.

"My business, my lord Marcus," he said in an educated and refined voice,
"is to minister to those who are in trouble."

"Then, sir, your feet have led you aright," answered Marcus with a
sad laugh, "for this is the house of trouble and you see I am its
inhabitant."

"I know, and I know the cause."

Marcus looked at him curiously. "Are you a Christian, sir?" he asked.
"Nay, do not fear to answer; I have friends who are Christians," and he
sighed, "nor could I harm you if I would, who wish to harm none, least
of all a Christian."

"My lord Marcus, I fear hurt at no man's hand; also the days of Nero
have gone by and Vespasian reigns, who molests us not. I am Cyril, a
bishop of the Christians in Rome, and if you will hear me I am come to
preach to you my faith, which, I trust, may yet be yours."

Marcus stared at the man; it was to him a matter of amazement that this
priest should take so much trouble for a stranger. Then a thought struck
him and he asked:

"What fee do you charge for these lessons in a new religion?"

The bishop's pale face flushed.

"Sir," he answered, "if you wish to reject my message, do it without
insult. I do not sell the grace of God for lucre."

Again Marcus was impressed.

"Your pardon," he said, "yet I have known priests take money, though it
is t