Knowing her sore plight, that evening there came to visit her one of the elders of the Christian Church in Rome, a bishop named Cyril, who had been the friend and disciple of the Apostle Peter. To him the poor girl poured out all the agony of her heart. “Oh! my father, my father in Christ,” she said, “I swear to you that were I not of our holy faith, rather than endure this shame I would slay myself to-night! Other dangers have I passed, but they have been of the body alone, whereas this——. Pity me and tell me, you in whose ear God speaks, tell me, what must I do?” “Daughter,” answered the grave and gentle man, “you must trust in God. Did He not save you in the house at Tyre? Did He not save you in the streets of Jerusalem? Did He not save you on the gate Nicanor?” “He did,” answered Miriam. “Aye, daughter, and so shall He save you in the slave-market of Rome. I have a message for your ear, and it is that no shame shall come near to you. Tread your path, drink your cup, and fear nothing, for the Lord shall send His angel to protect you until such time as it pleases Him to take you to Himself.” Miriam looked at him, and as she looked peace fell upon her soul and shone in her soft eyes. “I hear the word of the Lord spoken through the mouth of His messenger,” she said, “and henceforth I will strive to fear nothing, no, not even Domitian.” “Least of all Domitian, daughter, that son of Satan, whom Satan shall pay in his own coin.” Then going to the door he summoned Julia, and while Gallus watched without, the two of them prayed long and earnestly with Miriam. When their prayer was finished the bishop rose, blessed her, and bade her farewell. “I leave you, daughter,” he said, “but though you see him not, another takes my place. Do you believe?” “I have said that I believe,” murmured Miriam. Indeed, in those days when men still lived who had seen the Christ and His voice still echoed through the world, to the strong faith of His followers, it was not hard to credit that His angel did descend to earth to protect and save at their Master’s bidding. So Cyril, the bishop, went, and that night from many a catacomb prayers rose up to Heaven for Miriam in her peril. That night also she slept peacefully. Two hours before the dawn, Julia awoke her and arrayed her in the glittering, hateful garments. When all was ready, with tears she bade her farewell. “Child, child,” she said, “you have become to me as my own daughter was, and now I know not how and when we shall meet again.” “Perhaps sooner than you think,” Miriam answered. “But if not, if, indeed, I speak to you for the last time, why, then, my blessings on you who have played a mother’s part to a helpless maid that was no kin of yours. Yes, and on you Gallus also, who have kept me safe through so many dangers.”