But back of this half-dead person’s face, the old woman saw—as in a vision—a pale and beautiful One with glorious, majestic eyes and gentle features, and she was seized with sudden grief—touched by the unknown man’s misfortune and degradation. “Oh, what have they done with you, you poor soul!” she burst out, and moved a step nearer him, while her eyes filled with tears. She forgot her own sorrow and anxiety for this tortured man’s distress. She thought her heart would burst from pity. She, like the other women, wanted to rush forward and tear him away from the executioners! The fallen man saw how she came toward him, and he crept closer to her. It was as though he had expected to find protection with her against all those who persecuted and tortured him. He embraced her knees. He pressed himself against her, like a child who clings close to his mother for safety. The old woman bent over him, and as the tears streamed down her cheeks, she felt the most blissful joy because he had come and sought protection with her. She placed one arm around his neck, and as a mother first of all wipes away the tears from her child’s eyes, she laid her kerchief of sheer fine linen over his face, to wipe away the tears and the blood. But now the executioners were ready with the cross. They came now and snatched away the prisoner. Impatient over the delay, they dragged him off in wild haste. The condemned man uttered a groan when he was led away from the refuge he had found, but he made no resistance. Faustina embraced him to hold him back, and when her feeble old hands were powerless and she saw him borne away, she felt as if some one had torn from her her own child, and she cried: “No, no! Do not take him from me! He must not die! He shall not die!” She felt the most intense grief and indignation because he was being led away. She wanted to rush after him. She wanted to fight with the executioners and tear him from them. But with the first step she took, she was seized with weakness and dizziness. Sulpicius made haste to place his arm around her, to prevent her from falling. On one side of the street he saw a little shop, and carried her in. There was neither bench nor chair inside, but the shopkeeper was a kindly man. He helped her over to a rug, and arranged a bed for her on the stone floor. She was not unconscious, but such a great dizziness had seized her that she could not sit up, but was forced to lie down. “She has made a long journey to-day, and the noise and crush in the city have been too much for her,” said Sulpicius to the merchant. “She is very old, and no one is so strong as not to be conquered by age.” “This is a trying day, even for one who is not old,” said the merchant. “The air is almost too heavy to breathe. It would not surprise me if a severe storm were in store for us.” Sulpicius bent over the old woman. She had fallen asleep, and she slept with calm, regular respirations after all the excitement and fatigue.