"How long will it be," he thought, "before I too shall take my place here and lay down my life for my Saviour? When that time comes shall I be true? Lord Jesus, in that hour sustain me!"
The moon had not yet risen high enough to shine into the arena. Within it was dark and forbidding. The search had been made with torches obtained from the keepers.
At this moment Marcellus heard a deep voice from some of the vaults behind them. Its tones rang out upon the night air with startling distinctness, and were heard high above the rude clamor of the keepers:
"Now is come salvation and strength,
And the kingdom of our God,
And the power of his Christ;
For the accuser of our brethren is cast down,
Which accused them before our God day and night.
And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb,
And by the word of his testimony,
And they loved not their lives unto the death."
"Who is that?" said Marcellus.
"Do not notice him," said his companion. "It is Brother Cinna. His griefs have made him mad. His only son was burned at the stake at the beginning of the persecution, and since then he has gone about the city denouncing woe. Hitherto they have let him alone; but now at last they have seized him."
"And is he a prisoner here?"
"He is."
Again the voice of Cinna arose, fearfully, menacingly, and terribly,
"How long, O Lord, holy and true, dost thou not avenge our blood on them that dwell upon the earth?"