'Who can show us,' cried out one who took upon himself the office of leader, 'where the dwelling of Macer is?'
'I can,' responded the slender voice of a little boy; 'for I have often been there before they became Christians.'
'Show us then, my young urchin; come up hither. Now, lead the way, and we will follow.'
'You need go no further,' replied the boy; 'that is it?'
'That? It is but a stone wall!'
'Still it is the house,' replied the child; 'but the door is of stone as well as the walls.'
At that the crowd began to beat upon the walls, and shout to those who were within to come forth. They had almost wearied themselves out, and were inclined to believe that the boy had given them false information, when, upon a sort of level roof above the projecting mass which served as the dwelling, a female form suddenly appeared, and, advancing to the edge—not far above, yet beyond, the reach of the mob below—she beckoned to them with her hand, as if she would speak to them.
The crowd, soon as their eyes caught this new object, ceased from their tumultuous cries and prepared to hear what she who approached them thus might have to say. Some, indeed, immediately began to hurl missiles, but they were at once checked by others, who insisted that she should have liberty to speak. And these wretches would have been more savage still than I believed them, if the fair girl who stood there pleading to them had not found some favor. Hers was a bright and sparkling countenance, that at once interested the beholder. Deep blushes spread over her face and bosom, while she stood waiting the pleasure of the heaving multitude before her.
'Ah! hah!' cried one; 'who is she but the dancing girl Ælia! she is a dainty bit for us. Who would have thought that she was the daughter of a Christian!'
'I am sorry for her,' cried another; 'she is too pretty to be torn in pieces. We must save her.'