Faustina turned away with a shrug. “Let us go farther!” said she. “The man is mad. From him we will learn nothing.”
They went farther up the mountain. Faustina was not more than two steps from the city gate, when the Hebrew woman who had wished to help her find the Prophet called to her to be careful. She pulled in her reins and saw that a man lay in the road, just in front of the horse’s feet, where the crush was greatest. It was a miracle that he had not already been trampled to death by animals or people.
The man lay upon his back and stared upward with lusterless eyes. He did not move, although the camels placed their heavy feet close beside him. He was poorly clad, and besides he was covered with dust and dirt. In fact, he had thrown so much gravel over himself that it looked as if he tried to hide himself, to be more easily over-ridden and trampled down.
“What does this mean? Why does this man lie here on the road?” asked Faustina.
Instantly the man began shouting to the passers-by:
“In mercy, brothers and sisters, drive your horses and camels over me! Do not turn aside for me! Trample me to dust! I have betrayed innocent blood. Trample me to dust!”
Sulpicius caught Faustina’s horse by the bridle and turned it to one side. “It is a sinner who wants to do penance,” said he. “Do not let this delay your journey. These people are peculiar and one must let them follow their own bent.”
The man in the road continued to shout: “Set your heels on my heart! Let the camels crush my breast and the asses dig their hoofs into my eyes!”
But Faustina seemed loath to ride past the miserable man without trying to make him rise. She remained all the while beside him.
The Hebrew woman who had wished to serve her once before, pushed her way forward again. “This man also belonged to the Prophet’s disciples,” said she. “Do you wish me to ask him about his Master?”