worth. He could not read, but perhaps something of value might be
secretly hidden inside each of these scrolls. Who knew? It must be!
It seemed incredible that even Christians would be foolish enough to
fill a treasure-box with nothing but rolls of writing, and then
conceal the box so carefully behind this wind-sail!

Athribis purposely lingered a little behind the other men. He
snatched up the rolls, and having hidden them in his garment,
hurried from the roof.

"I am a Christian," calmly said a voice in the court. "Yea, I have
striven to bring others to Christ."

There stood the father of the household, his wife, and their two
children, one a girl of thirteen, the other a boy a little younger.
They had broken the emperor's decree. The father did not deny the
charge brought against them. It was his voice that Athribis had
heard, and the same voice spoke on:

"My children," continued the father, "our days on earth come to a
close. Let us sing our twilight hymn, for now indeed our work is
nearly done."

Above the scornful tumult rose the four voices, singing the
"Twilight," or "Candle Hymn," of the early Christians. The
children's tones trembled a little at first, but soon grew firm, as
if sustained by the calmness with which the parents sang. The angry
faces around the court became yet more fierce with hatred, as,
through a moment's pause, the rioters listened to the words of the
hymn: