Many minutes passed before the old man rose, dried his moist eyes, pressed his lips to the cold hand of the dead and said sadly: "So young--so handsome--a masterpiece of the Creator's hand!...

Only to-day as gay as a lark, the pride and joy of his mother-and now! How many hopes, how much triumph and happiness are extinct with that life.

O Lord my Saviour, Thou hast said that not only those who call Thee Lord, Lord, shall find grace with our Father in Heaven, and that Thou hast shed Thy blood for the salvation even of the heathen--save, redeem this one! Thou that are the Good Shepherd, have mercy on this wandering sheep!" Stirred to the bottom of his soul the old man threw up his arms and gazed upwards rapt in ecstasy.

But presently, with an effort, he said to the deaconess: "You know, Sister, that this lad was the only son of Berenice, the widow of Asclepiodorus, the rich shipowner.

Poor, bereaved mother! Only yesterday he was driving his guadriga out of the gate on the road to Marea, and now--here! Go and tell her of this terrible occurrence.