“What is thy name?”
“I was baptized Andrew, and so I am called.”
Here a murmur ran through the crowd, and a centurion stepped forward, saying:
“A most bitter enemy of the gods, most noble emperor. He is the same who may be seen at all the public executions of Christians, exhorting and praying with them.”
“I wonder he has never been apprehended until now—it speaks well for the devotion of my adherents,” replied the emperor with a sneer. The centurion drew back somewhat abashed.
“I have often sought death, but my gray hairs have spared me until now,” said the old man.
“Hold thy treacherous tongue, sirrah,” cried one of the guards. “I’ll warrant thee they will not spare thee now.”
“Silence!” cried the emperor. “Old man, art thou the same of whom it is said thou wert a friend of the Galilean ere he went to the gibbet?”
“What I was it matters not. What I desire to be is the faithful servant of my Lord Jesus Christ.”
“Verily, thou art impertinent, and age hath not taught thee humility. Mayhap, it would please thee to have thy old body cut in slices and thrown to the wild beasts.”