to the litters to carry them to the hospitals.

The deacon Eusebius, whom we have met as the spiritual adviser of Marcus,
was superintending the good work, and he took particular care that as
much attention should be shown to the wounded heathen as to the
Christians.

In front of the building veterans of the twenty-first legion paced up and
down in the place of the ordinary gate-keepers, who were sufficient
protection in times of peace.

Agne looked in vain for any but soldiers, but at last she slipped in
unobserved among the men and women who were tending the wounded. She was
terribly thirsty, and seeing one of the widows mixing some wine and water
and offer it to one of the wounded men who pushed it away, she took
courage and begged the deaconess to give her a drink. The woman handed
her the cup at once, asking to whom she belonged that she was here.

"I want to see my lord, the Bishop," replied Agne, but then correcting
herself, she added hastily: "If I could see the Bishop's gate-keeper, I
might speak to him."

"There he is," said the deaconess, pointing to an enormously tall man
standing in the darkest and remotest corner of the hall. The darkness
reminded her for the first time that it was now evening. Night was
drawing on, and then where could she take refuge and find shelter? She
shuddered and simply saying: "Thank you," she went to the man who had
been pointed out to her and begged that if her little brother should be
found and brought to him, he would take charge of him.