"It is so," said an old Christian, stepping forward from the rest. "It is no vainglory that brings us hither; we who have seen the true glory of the martyrs of Palestine, who by divers torments rendered up their most blessed souls to GOD. It is as Italicus says. The horses of Flaccus are dedicated to Marnas; they are the fleetest that the whole province of Palestine can show; those of Italicus, though he has done his best, cannot be compared to them; and yet the voice of the people has consecrated them to the GOD whom we worship. For any common victory we should not have sought assistance from you; as it is, we do not think that we are preferring an unworthy request. If Flaccus wins, Marnas conquers also; if Italicus is first in the race, then, as the multitude will deem, the LORD CHRIST will show Himself to be superior to the idols of the heathen." "It is a hard case," said Hilarion, "when such rivalships find place. Nevertheless we must not quench the smoking flax. All that a Christian man may lawfully do to destroy the works of the devil, that it is the bounden duty of Italicus, and of myself, and of every one that bears the name of CHRIST, to take in hand. Wherefore bring me a bowl of water." One of the attendants ran to the little stream by which the hermit had taken up his abode, filled a vessel, and brought it to him. He made the sign of the cross over it and drank. "Now, my son," he said to Italicus, "take this water and sprinkle your horses, and their manger, and their stable therewith. Thus you shall find in the day of trial, that the meanest of GOD'S servants, even though he be like myself, has power to confound the idol Marnas, and all his priests, and all his worshippers." Thankfully and carefully Italicus received the water; and after expressing his gratitude to the hermit, he and his company returned over the desert towards Gaza. Now we will pass over ten days.