Then they believed, and they went out quietly, murmuring to one another: “The poor old creature is mad—who ever heard of voluntary poverty?” But they molested her no more. And she recovered from the effect of their blows, and soon after left Rome, taking her dear Principia with her, and they went to a far country, where they served God according to the counsels of perfection, and, when their time came, died in peace. One other picture from those memorable days stands out—not sadly, but in an almost humorous light. Alaric, with all his Arian fierceness, had a great veneration for the Shrine of St. Peter and for the other great Churches; any one who took sanctuary in them was to be safe, and he forbade his men to touch any of the vessels pertaining to sacred worship. Now, St. Peter’s was surrounded by a number of convents and other buildings connected with its service, and one morning a big Goth, unaware that he was treading on forbidden ground, walked into one of these buildings to see what he could find. He was immediately confronted by a very old nun, who boldly asked him what he was doing there? He replied that he was in search of gold and silver, that he was certain she had treasures concealed in the house, and that she must produce them at once. “Yes,” she replied meekly, “I have much silver and gold. I will show it to you.” And, to the Goth’s huge delight, she brought out of various hiding-places such an array of precious objects as he had never yet beheld. Silently she spread them all before him—chalices and patens of pure gold, lamps and candlesticks of bronze and silver—till he could scarcely believe his eyes and began to wonder how he could carry them all away. Then the nun spoke. “This is all,” she said. “Behold these great treasures! There is no one in the house but myself, and I am an old woman, too feeble to guard them. BUT—they belong to St. Peter, and, if you lay so much as a finger on one of them, the wrath of Heaven will strike you dead!” That was enough. The terrified warrior fled, and, rushing to Alaric, told him what he had seen. “St. Peter’s treasures?” cried the chief. “They shall indeed be taken care of!” And he commanded one of his officers to lead a great body of men to the deserted house and see that the old nun and the holy vessels were deposited inside the Basilica. So that quarter of the city showed a strange sight to its inhabitants—a hundred or so of sturdy Goths, tricked out in stolen silks and gems, each carrying a bit of St. Peter’s property in devout fear, as if expecting that it would blow him up; and in their midst, blinking at the sunlight, a shabby old nun, who directed their steps and issued her orders as to where everything should be placed when the frightened procession finally defiled into the great, dark Church, and halted as far as possible from the High Altar and the Tomb of the Apostle.