Claudius had indeed seen much active service since he had gone out with Valens to pursue the little band of Christians in the forest near Radburn, and many a time the cries and tears of that innocent and inoffensive little band seemed to sound in his ears and reproach him. “I think,” he said, “the first time I ever felt that the religion of Christ must be a reality was when I saw that brave woman Agatha quietly submit to receive the dead Jewish girl in the dark dungeon, and, faint and exhausted, as it proved, even to death, make no murmur at the lonely vigil with the dead to which I left her. I would not speak to you here,” Claudius continued, “of my deeds of prowess. Those scenes in which I have taken part are no theme for your ear, most beautiful Hyacintha, but I would fain tell you, that face to face with death a hundred times, I have felt the power of God within me was mighty to save. “In the last great fight at Saxa Rubra, where we came unawares upon the army of Maxentius, I fought side by side with the friend who has so deeply influenced me. He was a Christian indeed, and though he defended himself valiantly, he indulged in no barbaric cruelty, such as we soldiers have often witnessed, and--I say it with shame--indulged in.” “The story of that battle is well known amongst us,” Hyacintha said. “We have been rid of the tyrant Maxentius, and Rome may have rest.” “There can be but little rest,” said Claudius. “I, for one, am weary of the clang of arms and fighting. Methinks I shall resign my high post, and try to find Casca in the far-off city where you say he is gone. The roar of the vanquished ones as they rushed to meet their fate in the swift-flowing Tiber sounds in my ear many a time and oft, and I would fain lay down my arms. I have had a glut of battles, and could almost take up Casca’s cry of--‘Anything but bloodshed.’ I am a rough fellow, I know, but Christianity can tame the roughest, and subdue the most ferocious nature. It would lift _you_,” he continued, in a voice faltering from deep emotion, “to the very height of the angelic host.” A smile broke over Hyacintha’s face. “Good Claudius,” she said; “I am in no need of exaltation, neither of humiliation. For when I think of all the great privileges which lie before me to-day--of the lonely watch before the altar of Vesta, and of the part which I shall take to-morrow in the great festival, I feel, methinks, as if my heart swelled with proud thankfulness. “The time is come for me,” she continued, “to return, for the sun is getting high above the horizon. “Ah!” she said, stretching out her arms to the lovely view before her. “How beautiful the city is! how grand! how like a queen! and surely I am highly favoured to be allowed to minister at the sacred altar, and keep alive the purifying flame which shall ensure the safety of thousands in Rome.”