"We are all faithful subjects," said the baker indignantly.

"You are a pack of rebellious rabble," retorted a Roman soldier, who like
the whole cohort quartered in the province of Hermopolis, had formerly
served in Judaea under the cruel Tinnius Rufus. "Among you worshippers
of beasts squabbles never cease, and as to the Christians, who have made
their nests out there on the other side of the valley, say the worst you
can of them and still you would be flattering them."

"Brave Fuscus is quite right!" cried a beggar. The wretches have
brought the plague into our houses; wherever the disease shows itself
there are Christian men and women to be seen. They came to my brother's
house; they sat all night by his sick children and of course both died."

"If only my old governor Tinnius Rufus were here," growled the soldier,
"they would none of them be any better off than their own crucified god."

"Well, I certainly have nothing in common with them," replied the baker.
"But what is true must continue true. They are quiet, kind folks and
punctual in payment, who do no harm and show kindness to many poor
creatures."

"Kindness?" cried the beggar, who had received alms himself from the
deacon of the church at Besa, but had also been exhorted to work. "All
the five priests of Sekket of the grotto of Artemis have been led away by
them and have basely abandoned the sanctuary of the goddess. And is it
good and kind that they should have poisoned my brother's children with
their potions?"