The president of the senate had listened with a penitent mien and bowed head, but now he recovered his presence of mind and exclaimed indignantly:
"The people die, the town and country are going to ruin, plague and horrors rise up from the river. Show us some other way of escape, or let us trust to our forefathers and try this last means."
But the litttle man drew himself up more stiffly, pointed with his left hand to the crucifix, and cried with unmoved composure:
"Believe, hope, and pray!"
"Perhaps you think that no evil is come upon us!" cried Alexander. "You, to be sure, have seen no wife with glazing eyes, no child struggling for breath. . . ." And a fresh tumult came up from below, wilder and louder than ever. Each one whose home or beasts had been blighted by death, whose gardens and fields had perished of drought, whose dates had dropped one by one from the trees, lifted up his voice and shrieked:
"The victim, the victim!"
"To the river with the maiden!"
"All hail to our deliverer, the wise Horapollo!" But others shouted against them:
"Let us remain Christians! Hail to Bishop John!"
"Think of our souls!"