What had he to do with the Christians?
He, who had watched his consecration-night in the temple of Isis; he, who had caught some sight of the Mysteries sacred to that goddess; he, who had worn the harsh linen robe and those symbolic robes in which a novice watches his dream-indicated night--what had he to do with Christians?
Would that Timokles had observed the emperor's command that no one should become a Christian! Heraklas groaned.
The dismissed man-slave, Athribis, looked cautiously back through the pillars, and smiled.

None knew better than he how any reference to the Christians stabbed the hearts of this family.

Athribis himself hated the Christians.

He longed to be out in Alexandria's streets this moment, that he, too, might be at liberty to pillage the Christians' houses.

Who knew what jewels he might find?
And he must stay here, polishing a corridor's pavement, when such things, were being done in the streets! His dark eyes glanced back again.
Heraklas' head was bowed.
Stealthily Athribis passed out of sight of the court.