“Put them in chains,” the centurion said. But Quintus, with calm dignity, requested a hearing.
“One word,” he said, turning to the centurion. “That scurvy slave has misled you. I swear to you on my honor, centurion, this nocturnal surprise was only intended for me. Here I am, take me with you! I will follow you; carry me in chains to the city, and you may be perfectly certain, that you have all the prey you need show. But these poor wretches, who stand here trembling as to their fate—let them go free; let them go on their way unhindered. They only came here to see for the last time the halls where they have, until now, celebrated the rites of their faith. They have no intention of defying the law.”
“Who is there here that will deny his Saviour?” Again it was the blind prophet that spoke. “We are faithful to confess Christ crucified. His name be praised and blessed forever!”
Quintus was silent, and a shade of deep trouble fell on his face.
“Well, then,” he said, turning away, “do your duty.”
The mercenaries pushed forward. The Christians, none of whom were armed except Thrax and Quintus, submitted at once. Thrax alone withdrew farther and farther into the niche; his left arm still held up Glauce, who leaned only half-conscious on his shoulder, and in his right he still clutched the dagger. The soldiers came up with him.
“Come, old man, make short work of it!” cried the foremost. “You see there are a score of us.”
Close to Thrax and Glauce Euterpe was kneeling by a pillar. In her wild anguish she had thrown her arms round the cold stone, and was murmuring vehement prayers. Now, looking up a moment, a shrill and piercing shriek broke from her lips, and she fell backwards on the earth, where she lay senseless. Instead of answering the soldier, Thrax Barbatus had raised the dagger, and thrust it to the very hilt in Glauce’s side. The two men, even, stood petrified at the sight of such a deed, while Thrax gently laid the slender body on the ground. Tears streamed down his rugged cheeks. Even in death the poor child smiled—shivered.—All was over.
“Good-night,” muttered the miserable father. “No executioner will ever harm you now. Come on, accursed crew, and lay me by the side of my sweet Glauce.”
He rushed headlong on one of the men, who avoided the stroke, and tried to seize his assailant round the body. But in vain; a mightier blow fell upon his helmet, and stunned him. He staggered backwards.