The Martyr of the Catacombs, James De Mille [best books to read for success txt] 📗

in a mournful voice, "how are the people scattered and the Churches left desolate! But a few months ago and there were fifty Christian churches within this city where the light of truth shone, and the sound of prayer and praise ascended to the Most High. Now they are overthrown, the people dispersed, and driven out of the sight of men."

He paused, overcome by emotion, and then in a low and plaintive voice he repeated the mournful words of the eightieth psalm:

"How long wilt thou be angry against the prayer of thy people?
Thou feedest them with the bread of tears;
And givest them tears to drink in great measure.
Thou makest us a strife unto our neighbors;
And our enemies laugh among themselves.
Turn us again, O God of hosts,
And cause thy face to shine,
And we shall be saved.
Thou hast brought a vine out of Egypt;
Thou hast cast out the heathen, and planted it.
Thou preparedst room before it,
And didst cause it to take deep root,
And it filled the land.
The hills were covered with the shadow of it,
And the boughs thereof were like goodly cedars.
She sent out her boughs to the sea,
And her branches unto the river.
Why hast thou broken down her hedges,
So that all who pass by the way do pluck her?
The boar out of the wood doth waste it,
And the wild beast of the field doth devour it.
Return, we beseech thee, O God of hosts,
Look down from heaven, and behold, and visit this vine.
And the vineyard which thy right hand planted,
And the branch which thou madest strong for thyself.
It is burned with fire, it is cut down;
They perish at the rebuke of thy countenance."

"You are sad, Honorius," said Marcellus. "Our sufferings, it is true, increase upon us; but we can be more than conquerors through Him who loved us. What says he--"

"'To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the tree of life which is in the midst of the Paradise of God.'

"'Be thou faithful unto death and I will give thee a crown of life. He that overcometh shall not be hurt of the second death.'

"'To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the hidden manna, and will give him a white stone, and in the stone a new name written, which no man knoweth saving he that receiveth it.'

"'He that overcometh and keepeth my words unto the end, to him will I give power over the nations, and I will give him the morning star.'

"'He that overcometh, the same shall be clothed in white raiment; and I will not blot his name out of the Book of Life, but I will confess his name before my Father, and before his angels.'

"'Him that overcometh will I make a pillar in the temple of my God, and he shall go no more out, and I will write upon him the name of my God, and the name of the city of my God, which is New Jerusalem, which cometh down out of heaven from my God, and I will write upon him my new name.'

"' To him that overcometh will I grant to sit with me on my throne, even as I also overcame, and am set down with my Father in his throne.'"

As Marcellus spoke these words his form grew erect, his eye brightened, and his face flushed with enthusiasm. His emotions were transmitted to his companions, and as one by one these glorious promises fell upon their ears they forgot for a while their sorrows in the thought of their approaching blessedness. The New Jerusalem, the golden streets, the palms of glory, the song of the Lamb, the face of Him who sitteth upon the throne; all these were present to their minds.

"Marcellus," said Honorius, "you have driven away my gloom by your words; let us, rise superior to earthly troubles. Come, brethren, lay aside your cares. The youngest born into the kingdom puts our faith to shame. Let us look to the joy set before us. 'For we know that if this earthly tabernacle be destroyed we have a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.'"

"Death comes nearer," he continued, "our enemies encircle us, and the circle grows narrower. Let us die like Christians--"

"Why these gloomy forebodings?" said Marcellus. "Is death nearer to us than it was before? Are we not safe in the Catacombs?"

"Have you not heard, then?"

"What?"

"Of the death of Chrysippus!"

"Chrysippus! dead! No--how? when?"

"The soldiers of the emperor were led down into the Catacombs by some one who knew the way. They advanced upon the room where service was going on. This was in the Catacombs beyond the Tiber. The brethren gave a hasty alarm and fled. But the venerable Chrysippus, either through extreme old age or else through desire for martyrdom, refused to fly. He threw himself upon his knees and raised his voice in prayer. Two faithful attendants remained with him. The soldiers rushed in, and even while Chrysippus was upon his knees they dashed out his brains. He fell dead at the first blow, and his two attendants were slain by his side."

"They have gone to join the noble army of martyrs. They have been faithful unto death, and will receive the crown of life," said Marcellus.

But now they were interrupted by a tumult without. Instantly every one started upright. "The soldiers!" exclaimed all.

But, no; it was not the soldiers. It was a Christian; a messenger from the world above. Pale and trembling, he flung himself upon the floor, and wringing his hands, cried out as he panted for breath,

"Alas! alas!"

Upon the lady Caecilia the sight of this man produced a terrible effect. She staggered back against the wall trembling from head to foot, her hands clenched each other, her eyes stared wildly, her lips moved as though she wished to speak, but no sound escaped.

"Speak--speak! Tell us all," cried Honorius.

"Pollio!" gasped the messenger.

"What of him?" said Marcellus sternly.

"He is arrested--he is in prison!"

At that intelligence a shriek burst forth which sounded fearfully amid the surrounding horrors. It came from the Lady Caecilia. The next moment she fell heavily, to the floor.

The bystanders hurried to attend her. They carried her away to her own quarters. There they applied the customary restoratives and she revived. But the blow had struck heavily, and though sense and feeling returned, yet she seemed like one in a dream.

Meanwhile the messenger had recovered strength and told all that he knew.

"Pollio was with you, was he?" asked Marcellus.

"No, he was alone."

"On what errand?"

"Finding out the news. I was on one side of the street a little behind. He was coming home. We walked on until we came to a crowd of men. To my surprise, Pollio was stopped and questioned. I did not hear what passed, but I saw their threatening gestures, and at length saw them seize him. I could do nothing. I kept at a safe distance and watched. In about half an hour a troop of Pretorians came along. Pollio was handed over to them, and they carried him away."

"Pretorians?" said Marcellus. "Do you know the captain?"

"Yes; it was Lucullus."

"It is well," said Marcellus, and he fell into a deep fit of musing.

CHAPTER XI.

THE OFFER.

"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends."

It was evening in the Pretorian camp. Lucullus was in his room seated by a lamp which threw a bright light around. He was roused by a knock at the door. At once rising, he opened it. A man entered and advanced silently to the middle of the room. He then disencumbered himself of the folds of a large mantle in which he was dressed and faced Lucullus.

"Marcellus!" cried the other in amazement, and springing forward he embraced his visitor with every mark of joy.

"Dear friend," said he, "to what happy chance do I owe this meeting? I was just thinking of you and wondering when we should meet again."

"Our meetings, I fear," said Marcellus sadly "will not be very frequent now. I make this one at the risk of my life."

"True," said Lucullus, participating in the sadness of the other. "You are pursued, and there is a price on your head. Yet here you are as safe as you ever were in those happy days before this madness seized you. O, Marcellus why can they not return again?"

"I cannot change my nature nor undo what is done. Moreover, Lucullus, although my lot may appear to you a hard one, I never was so happy."

"Happy!" cried the other in deep surprise.

"Yes, Lucullus, though afflicted I am not cast down; though persecuted I am not in despair."

"The persecution of the emperor is no slight matter."

"I know it well. I see my brethren fall before it every day. Every day the circle that surrounds me is lessened. Friends leave me and never appear again. Companions go up to the city, but when they return they are carried back dead to be deposited in their graves."

"And yet you say you can be happy?"

"Yes, Lucullus, I have a peace that the world knows nothing of; a peace that cometh from above, that passeth all understanding."

"I know, Marcellus, that you are too brave to fear death; but I never knew that you had sufficient fortitude to endure calmly all that I know you must now suffer. Your courage is superhuman, or rather it is the courage of madness."

"It comes from above, Lucullus. Once I was incapable of feeling it, but now old things have passed away and all has become new. Sustained by this new power, I can endure the utmost evils that can be dealt upon me. I expect nothing but suffering in life, and know that I shall die in agony; yet the thought can not overcome the strong faith that is within me."

"It pains me," said Lucullus sadly, "to see you so determined. If I saw the slightest sign of wavering in you I would hope that time might change or modify your feelings. But you seem to me to be fixed unalterably in your new course."

"God grant that I may remain steadfast unto the end!" said Marcellus fervently. "But it is not of my feelings that I came to speak. I come, Lucullus, to ask your assistance, to claim your sympathy and help. You promised me once to show me your friendship if I needed it. I come now to claim it."

"All that is in my power is yours already, Marcellus. Tell what you want."

"You have a prisoner."

"Yes, many."

"This is a boy."

"I believe my men captured a boy a short time since."

"This boy is too insignificant to merit capture. He is beneath the wrath of the emperor. He is yet in your power. I come, Lucullus, to implore his delivery."

"Alas, Marcellus, what is it that you ask? Have you forgotten the discipline of the Roman army, or the military oath? Do you not know that if I did this I would violate that oath and make myself a traitor? If you asked me to fall upon my sword I would do it more readily than this."

"I have not forgotten the military oath or the discipline of the camp, Lucullus. I thought that this lad, being scarcely more than a child, might not be considered a prisoner. Do the commands of the emperor extend to children?"

"He makes no distinction of age. Have you not seen children as young as this lad suffer death in the Coliseum?"

"Alas I have," said Marcellus, as his thoughts reverted to those young girls whose death-song once struck so painfully and so sweetly upon his heart. "This young boy, then, must also suffer?"

"Yes," said Lucullus, "unless he abjures Christianity."

"And that he will never do."

"Then he will rush upon his fate. The law does this, not I, Marcellus. I am but the instrument. Do not blame me."

"I do not blame you. I know well how strongly you are bound to obedience. If you hold your office you must perform its duties. Yet let me make another proposal. Surrender of prisoners