“Ye are Christians, you say. There has been an arm of fury stretched out against you, so we have heard. For ourselves, we have no bitterness against you. The Romans are our conquerors as well as yours, but they leave us to our old faith undisturbed for the most part. How have you incurred their dire displeasure? I tell you, you cannot resist the Romans’ power; they are the masters of the world. They will treat you like beasts of burden if you resist not, but they will kill you if you are rebellious. From whom do you flee?”
“We flee from the persecution, which has taken the life of a holy man named Alban. We are under the guidance of one Amphibalus, who is to gather us safely in a certain valley amongst the mountains of Wales, where we may worship our Lord, and form a struggling church.”
“You will fail to do it; the bloodhounds will track you out. Renounce your false religion, and go back to your homes.”
“Never!” said Agatha, “we will never bow the knee in the heathen temple, or worship at the sacrifices of the false gods.”
The old Druid priest shook his head sadly.
“My daughter, you are fighting against a legion; you will never prevail. I know,” he continued, “that the old faiths are shaking. I know many of our people have been massacred. We have peace now, but I see—I see in the distance, when I am dead—I see the legions of the North Sea conquering, trampling down our faith as yours, and wading through the blood of Druid and Christian alike. We are peaceful, and there are many of the sick and the stricken in body, even lepers, who come to us, and not in vain, for cure. We have salves for wounds, and physic for pain; we are skilled in the compounding of the herbs which are given for the good of mankind. But we are a body of men diminishing year by year, and our time is short.”
“Oh! father,” said Agatha, touched by the pathos of the old man’s words, “oh, father, have you never heard of Jesus the Lord, who died a cruel death to save us all? I would that I could show you the way to Him. The father, Amphibalus, could show it. But I tell you that He opens His arms wide to receive you, and all the Britons, and every dweller on the face of the earth. Oh! could you but come to Him!”
“Aye,” said the old Christian, “would that you could come!”
“Come whither?” asked the Druid proudly.
“To the Cross of Christ,” said Anna firmly. This was the first time that she had spoken, and her words sounded with peculiar power.