“Galba! Eheu! fugaces, Postume ... Galba! Well, then, let us fly, but whither?”
“Through the catacombs, sire.”
“No! the Christians live there, and they will kill me.”
“They kill no one,” said Alexander.
“Not even their enemies?”
“They pray for their enemies.”
“Then they are mad! All the better!”
The Christians were assembled in one of the crypts of the catacombs. “The Capitol is burning; that is the heathen’s Zion,” said Alexander.
“The Lord of Hosts avenges his destroyed Jerusalem.”