He raised his face, for a deep and kindly voice spoke his name.
"Petrus," said the lad, clasping the hand that the senator held out to him, "I felt forced and driven out into the world, and away from my father--and now he is gone for ever how gladly I would have been kept by him." "He died a noble death, in battle for those he loved," said the senator consolingly, "Paulus was near him when he fell," replied Hermas.

"My father fell from the wall while defending the tower; but look here this girl--poor child--who used to keep your goats, died like a heroine.

Poor, wild Miriam, how kind I would be to you if only you were alive now!" Hermas as he spoke stroked the arm of the shepherdess, pressed a kiss on her small, cold hand, and softly folded it with the other across her bosom.
"How did the girl get into the battle with the men ?" asked Petrus.

"But you can tell me that in my own house.

Come and be our guest as long as it pleases you, and until you go forth into the world; thanks are due to you from us all." Hermas blushed and modestly declined the praises which were showered on him on all sides as the savior of the oasis.