Amid the breathless silence that followed, all eyes turned, first upon the speaker, then upon the person pointed out by his accusatory finger. The congregation doubted. This maiden, so regular in her attendance at the synagogue, daughter of the rabbi Hyrcanus, and ward of the orthodox Josephus, an apostate? It could not be. “Vashti, daughter of Hyrcanus,” said Simeon gravely, “do you refuse to join in the common voice of the synagogue?” Vashti was silent. “Cursed be Jesus, the son of Panther! Do you not say ‘Amen’ to this anathema?” At this, which to her mind was blasphemy, the girl’s spirit took fire. “I do not. It is our duty not to curse, but to bless.” “Are you wiser than our fathers and the prophets who were wont to curse the enemies of the faith?” “They belonged to a covenant that is past. Besides, even they did not curse the dead.” “Then curse we the living!” cried Simeon angrily. “Cursed be the whole tribe of Christians! Do you say ‘Amen’ to that?” “In doing so I should be cursing myself.” From the age of twelve, her time of joining the synagogue, Vashti, by reason of the sweetness of her disposition and of her liberality in alms-giving, had won the favor of the whole congregation. But now, all in a moment, that favor was withdrawn. Jewish bigotry asserted itself. The knowledge that she had become a Christian converted friends into enemies. She found herself surrounded by dark and scowling faces. “Judgment!” cried Sadas, the man who had accused her; and a hundred voices took up the cry, “Judgment!” In the Hebrew word for synagogue--Beth-din, or House of Judgment--is expressed one of its peculiarities; besides being a place of worship, the synagogue was also--and this with the sanction of the Romans themselves--a judicial court for the trial of such offenders as were accused of violating the precepts of Judaism. “Let the damsel be brought hither,” said Simeon in cold judicial tones. The many hands put forth to push her forward were needless; of her own free will she walked from her place to the front of the congregation. Her girlish figure standing all alone before the crowd of wrathful spectators failed to elicit their sympathy; the gray-haired elders, who were her judges, had likewise hearts of marble; neither youth nor beauty had power to influence them in the matter of a person apostatizing to the hateful creed of the Nazarenes. “Damsel,” said Simeon, “we require no witnesses of thy guilt. Out of thine own mouth thou standest condemned as being a Christian. Yet are we minded to give thee time for reflection. Thou mayest, if thou wilt, withdraw thy statement.” “I cannot withdraw the statement, for it is true. I am a Christian.” Fierce cries broke forth from the assembly: “Traitress! Apostate! Nazarene!” “How long hast thou been a Christian?” “’Tis a matter of a few weeks only.” “You have received the baptism prescribed by this heresy?” Vashti signified assent. “Who was he that baptized thee?”