So Quintus speaks, with his vibrant voice and with a strange light
on his face. Wonderingly they hear the tidings that he brings--the
recital of the greatest happening that can ever befall a man. Not
deriding their valiant soldier, and not withholding their wealth of
love from one who has come safely back to them, they watch the
changes in his life.

"I do not care," he says, "to loiter in the baths of Agrippa and to
hear from the idlers there the gossip of the hour. The
gladiatorial struggles in the Circus Maximus and the comedies in
the theaters have lost for me their relish. For the civic rewards
which Tiberius gives his favored ones I have no wish. Senatorships
and proconsulships are like the dust in the apothecaries' scales.
I have seen the risen Lord!"

Influential is such a life on the home group of Quintus. With his
pride of birth and his great properties, Marcus becomes a believer.
A conversion it is which is the surprise of Rome. The rare
Lucretia, as well, receives the truth. At times, before she has
called herself a disciple, Quintus escorts her to the worship of
the Roman Christians. Their captivating speech, their holy love
for one another, their rapturous faces move her deepest heart.
Till, one day, when Quintus has been telling her of the womanhood
in Judaea which the Christ has ennobled, she replies:

"I believe it all, O Quintus. Of late into my heart an untold
peace has come. All things are changed for me. The sunlight is on
the hills!" It is her open confession. Lucretia is thenceforth
enrolled among the Roman saints of whom the world was not worthy,
and who looked for the life to come.