the ravens with the monk! to the ravens!"

"No; throw him in the fire! Burn him alive!"

Seizing his fair prey, he pressed her to his heart.

"Impious men," he cried in a voice of thunder, "strive not to tear the
dove from the eagle of the Lord. But rather copy this woman, and like
she turn your filth into gold. Imitate her example, and renounce the
false wealth which you think you hold and which holds you. Hasten!
the day is at hand, and divine patience begins to grow weary. Repent,
confess your sins, weep and pray. Walk in the footsteps of Thais. Hate
your offenses, which are as great as hers. Which of you, poor or rich,
merchants, soldiers, slaves or eminent citizens, would dare to say,
before God, that he was better than a prostitute? You are all nothing
but living filth, and it is by a miracle of divine goodness that you do
not suddenly turn into streams of mire."

Whilst he spoke flames shot from his eyes; an it seemed as though live
coals came from his lips and those who surrounded him were obliged to
hear him in spite of themselves.

But old Taddeus did not remain idle. He picked up stones and oyster
shells, which he hid in the skirt of his tunic, and not daring to throw
them himself slipped them into the hands of the beggars. Soon the stones
began to fly, and a well-directed shell cut Paphnutius' face. The blood,
which flowed down the dark face of the martyr, dropped in a new baptism
on the head of the penitent, and Thais, half stifled in the monk's
embrace and her delicate skin scratched by the coarse cassock, felt a
thrill of horror and fright.

At that moment a man elegantly dressed, and with a wreath of wild celery
on his head, opened a road for himself through the furious crowd, and
cried--

"Stop! Stop! This monk is my brother!"

It was Nicias, who, having closed the eyes of the philosopher Eucrites,
was passing through the square to return to his house, and saw, without
very much surprise (for nothing astonished him), the smoking pile, Thais
clad an a serge cassock, and Paphnutius being stoned.

He repeated--

"Stop, I tell you; spare my old fellow-scholar; respect the beloved head
of Paphnutius!"

But, being only used to subtle disquisitions with philosophers, he did
not possess that imperious energy which commands vulgar minds. He was
not listened to. A shower of stones and shells fell on the monk, who,
protecting Thais with his body, praised the Lord whose goodness turned
his wounds int