“Courage! my sweet girl,” said the old man, smiling—“come what may. I shall rest better to-night than I did last night; and the sun will shine for me more beautifully to-morrow than it has to-day.” “Come, come,” said Euphorbus, “we must be going.” Oh the anguish of that parting! Mary put the green shade over her eyes and the handkerchief to her mouth and walked slowly but bravely out with the keeper. The guard let them pass. One fellow looked closely after them, and then stepped to the window and looked in. Mary with her golden tresses falling over her shoulders was kneeling in prayer! Who can imagine the thoughts of that brave old man, as he knelt in the woman’s dress, with the lion’s growl in his ear! How eagerly he listened! How freely he breathed when he heard no interruption in the courtyard; no outcry; no alarm. They are safe! How he lifted his heart to heaven! Did he spend that last hour in prayer? To what God did he pray? What faith did he offer up as his claim to salvation? What matters it? Had he not kept the commandments of God? Was not his soul free from irreverence and profanity and theft and murder and adultery and perjury and uncharitableness? Did he not love his neighbor more than himself? This disciple of Zoroaster, was he not a child of God? The hour passed. There was a solemn hush in the grand amphitheatre. The dead gladiators were dragged from the arena. Sliding panels were withdrawn and the great Næmean lion was seen behind his iron bars furiously lashing his sides with his tail. The herald of Lelius cried with a loud voice: “Bring forth the woman!” There was a great rustling and stir in the vast audience. Every one held his breath. A sudden outcry was raised from the prison: “She has escaped!” It was echoed by a thousand hoarse whispers in the crowd—“She has escaped!” There was a tremendous excitement. All stood upon their feet. How? where? when? by whom? echoed from all sides. Simon Magus, a picture of flaming wrath, leaped into the arena and ran through the walk enclosed by iron railings that led into the prison. He returned in a moment dragging the poor, old, bald-headed and beardless man by the arms, and holding up the female mask in the air, he exclaimed: “The woman and the keeper have fled; but here is the miscreant; here is the criminal! Clear the arena and give him to the lion.” “Give him to the lion!” echoed thousands of voices, followed by thunders of applause. A tall, stern-looking man, in the front row of seats, sprang to his feet and looking over to Lelius, exclaimed: “Justice! justice! This man is no Christian; this man is no heretic.” “To the lion—to the lion!” interrupted the multitude with fiercer yells than before. Simon Magus motioned significantly to the governor. “To the lion,” said Lelius, waving his hand. “I defy you,” said the speaker, in a loud and stern voice—“I defy you to throw him to the lion.