Sebastian, after bidding affectionate farewell to his friends, insisted upon accompanying Pancratius home. As they were leaving the room, the latter remarked, “Sebastian, I do not like that Torquatus. I fear he will give us trouble.” “To tell the truth,” answered the soldier, “I would rather he were different; but we must remember that he is a neophyte, and will improve in time, and by grace.” As they passed into the entrance-court of the palace, they heard a Babel of uncouth sounds, with coarse laughter and occasional yells, proceeding from the adjoining yard, in which were the quarters of the Mauritanian archers. A fire seemed to be blazing in the midst of it, for the smoke and sparks rose above the surrounding porticoes. Sebastian accosted the sentinel in the court where they were, and asked: “Friend, what is going on there among our neighbors?” “The black slave,” he replied, “who is their priestess, and who is betrothed to their captain, if she can purchase her freedom, has come in for some midnight rites, and this horrid turmoil takes place every time she comes.” “Indeed!” said Pancratius, “and can you tell me what is the religion these Africans follow?” “I do not know, sir,” replied the legionary, “unless they be what are called Christians.” “What makes you think so?” “Why, I have heard that the Christians meet by night, and sing detestable songs, and commit all sorts of crimes; and cook and eat the flesh of a child murdered for the purpose[43]--just what might seem to be going on here.” “Good night, comrade,” said Sebastian; and then exclaimed, as they were issuing from the vestibule, “Is it not strange, Pancratius, that, in spite of all our efforts, we who are conscious that we worship only the One living God in spirit and truth, who know what care we take to keep ourselves undefiled by sin, and who would die rather than speak an unclean word, should yet, after 300 years, be confounded by the people with the followers of the most degraded superstitions, and have our worship ranked with the very idolatry, which above all things we abhor? ‘How long, O Lord! how long?’” “So long,” said Pancratius, pausing on the steps outside the vestibule, and looking at the now declining moon, “so long as we shall continue to walk in this pale light, and until the Sun of Justice shall rise upon our country in His beauty, and enrich it with His splendor. Sebastian, tell me, whence do you best like to see the sun rise?”