erious air keep on their way as if conscious of the
great part which it is theirs to act, and resolved that it shall not
suffer at their hands. Many with whom I have spoken, put on even a
cheerful air as they have greeted me, and after the usual morning's
salutation, have passed on as if things were in their usual train.
Others with pale face and quivering lip confessed the inward tumult, and
that, if they feared naught for themselves, there were those at home,
helpless and exposed, for whom the heart bled, and for whom it could not
but show signs of fear.

I met the elder Demetrius. His manly and thoughtful countenance--though
it betrayed nothing of weakness--was agitated with suppressed emotion.
He is a man full of courage, but full of sensibility too. His affections
are warm and tender as those of a girl. He asked me 'what I could inform
him of the truth of the rumors which were now afloat of the most
terrific character.' I saw where his heart was as he spoke, and answered
him, as you may believe, with pain and reluctance. I knew, indeed, that
the whole truth would soon break upon him--it was a foolish
weakness--but I could hardly bring myself to tell him what a few hours
would probably reveal. I told him, however, all that I had just learned
from Aurelian himself, and which, as he made no reserve with regard to
me, nor enjoined concealment, I did not doubt was fully resolved upon,
and would be speedily put in force. As I spoke, the countenance of the
Greek grew pale beyond its usual hue of paleness. He bent his head, as
in perplexed and anxious thought; the tears were ready to overflow as he
raised it, after a moment, and said,

'Piso, I am but recently a Christian. I know nothing of this religion
but its beauty and truth. It is what I have ever longed for, and now
that I possess it I value it far more than life. But,'--he paused a
moment--'I have mingled but little with this people; I know scarcely
any; I am ignorant of what they require of those who belong to their
number in such emergences. I am ready to die myself, rather than shrink
from a bold acknowledgment of what in my heart I believe to be the
divinest truth; but--my wife and my children!--must they too meet these
dangers? My wife has become what I am; my children are but infants; a
Greek vessel sails to-morrow for Scio, where dwells, in peaceful
security, the father of my wife, from whom I received her, almost to his
distraction; her death would be his i